The Closet Problem
by newperson
Summary: The EFF Hole Continued... "Kiss my ass Marik!" Marik paused again, "But there's poop down there." How in the world is Bakura ever going to pull, or yank rather, Marik out of the bloody closet? YGOTAS Thiefshipping. Lemon in later chapters.
1. Kiss Me

**The Closet Problem**

Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh! Belongs to Kazuki Takahashi. Inspired by "The EFF Hole" scene in Little Kuriboh's YGOTAS Deleted Scenes Montage, along with other references from YGOTAS, Marik's Evil Council of Doom and Bakura responding to YouTube comments. The ideas and the lines taken from the said inspiration do not belong to me. I only continue to ask: "What happens next?"

* * *

**Chapter One: Kiss Me**

Bakura was getting rather tired of their ill-fated Evil Council of Doom meetings. He sincerely enjoyed Marik's company, but they never ever got anything done—be it killing Yugi Motou or furthering their… Whatever their relationship was, it hadn't really moved since they met.

In any case, it was just the two of them today—Pegasus was down with the flu and feeling un-fabulous, Zorc had left him for his new spin-off show, Zombie-boy had defected, Rex and Weevil joined Lumis and Umbra on the promise of meeting chicks on the moon (Bakura didn't even want to know). Dan Green… was being Dan Green, which means he probably forgot and ended up doing Dan Green things instead (Translation: Bakura didn't care). The evil teddy bear was in America with the little blonde-haired girl, so they probably wouldn't see that thing for quite some time.

Marik really was just as obnoxious as he usually was. Bakura had him completely tuned out—it became a habit after a while; he was there for the eye candy really. Marik was undeniably pretty and Bakura was really itching to get some. He'd been looking for gay people for quite some time now, but after hitting so many dead ends he was pretty content to stick with Marik despite the closet problem. He hadn't had the need to use his gaydar since.

However, it was getting harder and harder (excuse the pun) to continue feigning interest in the absurd plans of the Egyptian teenager while fantasizing about him in broad daylight. Bakura had yet to come up with a solution to the closet problem, seeing as Marik opposed his sex-change-operation plan.

Meanwhile, Marik continued to loudly present his grand idea: "Let us join forces Bakura and together we will use our combined strength to tear Yugi Motou a new fuck hole."

This looked promising. Bakura decided to twist Marik's words.

"What the bloody hell is a fuck hole?"

Marik gaped, "What?"

"That thing you just said." Bakura tried to hide his smile, "What is it?"

"A fuck hole?"

"Yes." Bakura raised his hands, feigning defeat, "That."

"Well it's obvious, isn't it?" Marik asked.

"Enlighten me."

"Well it's," Marik glared, "the hole that you fuck."

"So you mean a vagina?"

"Of course, what else would I fuck?"

"I don't know, bottoms?" Bakura suggested.

"EUGH~" Marik spat, "For the last friggin' time I do not partake in that sort of nonsense. I only fuck vaginas because I'm totally straight!" He stood up straight and arched his head to the sky, "Ooh! Look at me and my straightness!"

"Okay, so, what you're saying is…" Bakura decided to humour Marik, "We're going to tear Yugi Motou a new vagina."

"Uh." Marik paused, "Yes. T-that is totally what I meant."

"I wasn't aware he had an old vagina."

"Oh shut your face Bakura!"

"Kiss my ass Marik!"

Marik paused again, "But there's poop down there."

"No, there isn't," Bakura shot back, amused at the way the conversation was spinning, "I should know because I had a bowel moment earlier today and I probably won't be having another one until my next meal."

"Ew! Bakura!" Marik grimaced and scowled, "I really didn't need to know that."

"I'm just letting you know that I'm clean."

"Look it doesn't matter about your…" Marik stopped, hesitant to talk about Bakura's bowels, "That's still where the poop comes out of. It's an out-hole, Bakura."

"Then kiss my tailbone. There's no poop there."

"What? But it's…" Marik glowered, "It's like, in the general vicinity."

Bakura raised his arms again, "I assure you Marik, my ass is perfectly clean."

"Auuugh," Marik let out another groan, "I already told you Bakura: I'm not gay."

"I never said you were. But since we're friends, I was just wondering how far I could go with you."

"Bakura! Friends don't do those things to one another!"

"Some do. The ones with benefits."

"Benefits?"

"Yes."

"Uh," Marik paused again, "what kind of benefits?"

"The experimental kind. Why don't I show you?" Bakura grinned, "Since you think my ass is dirty, I bet yours must be clean."

"No, mine is definitely not clean either." Marik retorted quickly, "What are you planning on doing?"

"Oh I figured you needed a demonstration. If you won't kiss my ass, I can kiss yours."

"No one's kissing me anywhere down there, Bakura." Marik held both hands into fists, "That's just dirty."

"Then how about above?"

"Above?"

"Your tailbone. Or maybe either side. Do you deem your cheeks clean?"

"What? No! Bakura, let's just…" Marik desperately tried to find a way to change the conversation, "continue our plan to defeat Yugi Motou. Yes."

"By ripping him a new vagina," Bakura mocked, "yes."

"No! We're not ripping him a new vagina. I changed my mind about that one."

"Okay, then what's your new plan?"

"We will uh…" Marik scoured his brain for his next evil idea, "we will kidnap his favourite cereal box! Yes. Then Yugi Motou will have to find something else for breakfast and he will be so disappointed!"

"He could just go shopping for another cereal box."

"But it will never be the same. Come on Bakura, admit it; it's fucking foolproof!"

Bakura inwardly cursed himself for allowing Marik to regain control of the conversation. He was going to have to work really hard to reverse the change and get what he wanted.

"Yes, Marik," he agreed, "Yugi will have a momentary flash of sadness and loss, then go back to being happy-go-lucky as always. Foolproof."

"Hey don't make fun of my plan. It's the best one I've come up with so far."

Yes, Bakura thought to himself, Marik had a long, long way to go. This guy was so deep in the closet he would have to go around the back and break it open to pull him out from the other side.

"Then," Marik continued, "we will drink all his milk, so he will be unable to get the calcium he needs to grow any taller."

"He's already a midget," Bakura sighed, "milk or no milk."

"But he'll feel like even more of a midget than usual! It will be totally awesome!"

"I'll tell you what's awesome," Bakura promptly walked over to Marik, "this."

Giving the Egyptian no time to come up with a witty comeback, Bakura pressed his lips against Marik's.

As expected, Marik freaked out.

"Wha-WHAT! WAIT—Hold everything!" He screamed into the air and grabbed his Millennium Rod from behind his back to thrust it in front of his face in defense, "You did not just do what I think you did."

"I believe I did just do what you did not think I did."

"Bakura!" Marik cried, "Stop coming on to me—I told you I like women!"

"Then why don't you just pretend I'm a girl?"

"B-but," Marik stammered, "you're not!"

"Are my lips too dirty for you?"

"What? No!" Marik shouted without thinking, then, "I mean yes! God! Now you've gone and…"

"What," Bakura cocked his head curiously, "did I get your lips dirty?"

"Yes you did you poop-head!" Marik really needed to expand his insult vocabulary.

"Well now you must have no problem kissing my ass then."

"What? No!" Marik was still repulsed by the thought. "Where is your mind going Bakura? I already told you I do not partake in this sort of nonsense!"

"Says the guy who reads yaoi."

"Hey fuck off!" Marik demanded, "What I read is my personal business. You can't judge me."

Such a whiner, Bakura shook his head, "Not judging. Seriously, Marik, are you turning down my offer? I happen to take offense."

Marik stared at Bakura. Sure the guy was fucking hot and wait. What was he thinking? He tried to come up with an answer, "I… I don't want you to take offense. But I just don't think this sort of thing is…"

"What? You don't think it's safe?"

"Well I mean it's not natural."

"Who says?"

"Everybody!"

"I don't."

"You don't count!"

"And why not?"

"You're…" Marik struggled to get the word out, "You're gay."

"So that makes me unnatural?"

"Yes."

"And so you can't trust me?"

"No!" Marik cried, trying to keep his head cool, "It's just, I don't want to do it. There. It's as simple as that."

"So you wouldn't mind if I took offense at you finding me unattractive and go for some other man…"

"Wait!" Marik really didn't want Bakura to leave.

"Or I could find you a girlfriend and get off watching you screw her—

—NO!" Marik shouted. He really didn't want that.

"So what is it that you want Marik?" Bakura asked, angry, "Because I'm not going to keep tagging along with your group just for your pretty face. I've already had my fill of that and I want something more."

Marik wasn't prepared to answer this. He was really hoping that things would stay as they always did. Why did Bakura have to ask for more all of a sudden?

"I want um… I want…"

Bakura tapped his foot impatiently, "I'm waiting."

"I want you to kiss me." Marik quickly blurted, embarrassed.

"Again?" Bakura asked, just to make sure he heard right.

"Yes." Marik let the heat on his cheeks show. "You heard me."

Bakura moved in to do so, but Marik continued his orders, "On the lips—nowhere else! And definitely nowhere below the waist or I'll clobber you with my Rod!"

"Gladly," Bakura grinned wickedly. Finally, progress!

Marik kept going, "And you're not my boyfriend or anything. We're still just friends, um—

—with benefits." Bakura finished for him.

"Yes." Marik agreed, "That. And you will not touch me with your hands anywhere."

"Yes, yes." Bakura noticed Marik's shoulders tense as he closed the gap between their faces. He was going to have to do his best with just his lips.


	2. Feeling Lucky

**The Closet Problem**

Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh! Belongs to Kazuki Takahashi. Inspired by "The EFF Hole" scene in Little Kuriboh's YGOTAS Deleted Scenes Montage, along with other references from YGOTAS, Marik's Evil Council of Doom and Bakura responding to YouTube comments. The ideas and the lines taken from the said inspiration do not belong to me. I only continue to ask: "What happens next?"

* * *

**Chapter Two: Feeling Lucky**

Marik felt Bakura's tongue brush over his lips, moistening them. He wasn't sure how his second kiss would turn out, but Bakura was taking it really slow this turn around—savouring the moment, no doubt. Marik had to admit he was kind of enjoying this—only kind of. The attention was nice. But he was straight. _He was totally straight_. He just had to keep telling himself that.

Bakura nipped very softly at Marik's upper lip, then his lower lip, before pressing more firmly against the warm skin. He knew Marik wasn't going to return his kiss for quite some time, so he was content just to linger over him as long as possible, whenever Marik gave the opportunity.

It was so nice to have him be quiet for once. Bakura silently wished this would be a reoccurring change.

Marik almost let out a sigh when Bakura finally ceased the kiss—sort of. It was kind of awkward to sigh with another face barely touching yours after all. But having kissed him again, Bakura did not pull away completely. He did not move his body position and was waiting for Marik's next reaction.

"Bakura, get off me." Marik tried to shuffle away.

"No, I'm quite content right here, actually."

There wasn't a comeback—Marik could only think back to the kiss, er, kisses. Then he suddenly blurted, "That was nice."

"What?"

"Kissing," Marik answered, "um, you."

"Correction: Being kissed." Bakura chuckled, "You didn't make any attempt to kiss me at all."

"That is what I meant." Marik glared.

"Well that's a good start," Bakura decided to speak his mind, "because had you kissed me back I probably wouldn't have been able to keep my promise."

"Promise?"

"Of not kissing you anywhere else." For now, he silently added.

Marik agreed, "Oh right, that promise. Well you can kiss me anywhere above my neck—that's okay."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Good." Bakura leaned back in to kiss Marik's nose, trailing soft kisses up the bridge to the Egyptian's forehead.

Marik was beginning to loose the lack of coherency he already had. The affection was seriously messing with his dopamine levels.

Bakura guessed that Marik wasn't aware of the sounds he was making. They weren't exactly audible sounds, but his breathing hitched and Bakura could hear every breath Marik made at this distance. Having this encouragement made him excited to see just what he could do given the set of rules he had been dealt.

He hadn't had this much fun in over five thousand years.

The fact that he was stuck in a piece of gold without a body for most of that time still counted as time passing, after all.

Marik didn't know he liked kisses to his forehead. They reminded him of when his sister used to kiss him when he was ill in bed. His father never showed him affection of any sort and Odion… well Odion was too manly for that sort of thing. And, his stepbrother certainly wasn't gay. Not for him. No.

There was one yaoi title he had read where the brothers were twins and they were the reincarnation of a demon couple from the ancient past… But that was fantasy. This was real life. Yes. God, yes, kisses really do feel good. This reminded him of a particular scene in that yaoi comic book where Naruto was kissing Sasuke and Marik was beginning to become aware of the blood pooling between his legs.

Bakura continued to nip at Marik's skin following the arch of his left eyebrow and down the side of his cheek, then his ear. He was absolutely ecstatic to hear Marik purr. He repeated the same administration to the right side of his face.

However just before he could kiss Marik's right ear the teen pushed him away, yelling, "STOP!"

"What?"

"I, uh," Marik scurried away from Bakura, "I gotta go. Sorry, um, see you again, uh, later! Bye!"

Bakura watched Marik disappear at the speed of light.

He blinked. Thrice.

Then Bakura let out a deep chuckle. He laughed harder and harder until both his sides hurt. He doubled over, still laughing.

Oh Marik! The boy had a long, long, very long way to go.

Bakura licked his lips. This was going to be a fun ride.

Marik was never going to admit to Bakura ever that he gave him his first real erection. Comic books didn't count.

He spent the first ten years of his life underground mostly in the company of his sister and his stepbrother. His mother died giving birth to him so Ishizu was the only female he'd ever known. After killing his father Marik was free for six years to found the Rare Hunters. He never had a real friend before, let alone any relationship beyond the sibling or master and servant type. In fact Odion and Ishizu served as both his siblings and his friends, since he wasn't allowed to make any.

Bakura was different.

He definitely wasn't family. He had his own mind and wasn't going to follow Marik's every order out of fear or mind control. He was sarcastic, dark, sinister, cunning and not exactly sheep—or Steve—material.

So far Marik had just decided to call their relationship "partners in crime". He wasn't sure what a friend was exactly, besides what little he gathered from his scrapped reading experiences. He was definitely not prepared to handle any touchy kind of affection—it was entirely foreign. After all, comic books and real life very, very different!

Everything in fantasy turned out fine and dandy, but reality consisted of hot burning knives cutting into his skin and the crack of a whip.

The time he spent "free" was not all that much better, as Marik kept running into problem after problem—his plans foiled time and time again.

At least he had his motorcycle.

That was his crowning glory of achievement.

He was born to ride a motorcycle. He knew it as soon as he saw it when he was ten—the very first time he saw the sun.

Ishizu was the best sister ever.

Sometimes.

Anyway, now that Marik had successfully diverged his thinking from Bakura—wait. No, that didn't work.

Now he was thinking of Bakura kissing him while they rode on his motorcycle together.

Fuck.

Fucking _fuck_.

Marik was going to avoid Bakura for a very long time.

Bakura was planning the next move of the game. If there was going to be any progress at all he'd have to take drastic measures into his own hands. He'd expected Marik to pull the runaway after disappearing like that. They'd spent so much time together Bakura knew how Marik thought inside and out. The only problem was that Marik was such an immature obnoxious moron that it took Bakura every ounce of brainpower to devise a plan that the sixteen-year-old would actually agree to.

No doubt raping the bastard was out of the question. He wanted to enjoy the boy more than just once.

Still, maybe that'd actually work. You know, it was crazy enough to.

First off though, Bakura had some serious stalking to do. He knew just where Marik would take off to hiding.

Marik closed all the windows and pulled down all the blinds of his secret underground hideout.

Despite his deep hatred for darkness and being underground in general, when feeling threatened there was a sense of nostalgia hiding as he did in his childhood. The darkness was his home, deep below the earth.

It was Saturday.

A week went by. Marik knew he would arouse suspicion if he didn't show up at the next Evil Council meeting. And his pride wouldn't let Bakura take it over. That damned fluffy kitten.

Marik reluctantly stepped outside, hoping that all would go as, well, how everything used to go before the whole kissing thing.

He wasn't going to think about it! No!

Bakura wouldn't kiss him in public, not in front of the other members. He wasn't so stupid as to make a fool of Marik like that.

Or would he?

Fuck, fuck, fuck…

Marik somehow managed to keep his composure at the meeting. Sure Pegasus raised an eyebrow at him for ignoring the albino and the witty name-calling banter they usually shared was awkward. The other members were too preoccupied with their own eccentricities to notice anything off about Marik.

Bakura was somehow… the same. It's like the kissing thing didn't change him at all. Dammit, no! He wasn't going to think about the kissing—no, no, no, no…

"While were at it," Bakura mocked his plan in the usual way, "we could just empty Yugi's fridge of all its contents and force him to do even more grocery shopping than necessary."

"No!" Marik defended his plan, "Just his cereal and milk will be enough, because it will take him too much effort to make any other sort of breakfast. Imagine Yugi Motou being forced to prepare pancakes! He probably never had to cook before. He'd be so late for school and he'd get detention and he'll be bullied for missing the most important meal of the day!"

"There is instant pancake mix," Bakura leaned against the wall, "you know. I'm sure there's instant waffles too, the kind you just toast or microwave."

"BUT IT WON'T BE THE SAME!" Marik roared at the top of his lungs. "That is my point."

"Fine, fine," Bakura closed his eyes.

"So," Marik forced his gaze away from the attractive white boy and pointed at Weevil, "You! Yes you! You're going to sneak into Yugi's cupboard and steal his cereal. And you!" He pointed at Rex, "You will go into his fridge and drink all his milk!"

Bakura couldn't help rolling his eyes. There were just too many things wrong with sending those two off to sneak into Yugi Motou's house. For one thing, they didn't understand the concept of 'silence' let alone 'sneak'.

Lumis and Umbra demanded to go in their stead saying their skills were far superior and after a long and heated argument about who was going to carry out the plan, it turns out Pegasus had the same favourite cereal and he decided to go do both tasks. Creepy.

Marik was reluctant to let the meeting end, for that meant he would have to deal with Bakura… alone. But alas everyone had to leave eventually.

Pegasus was a bit too giddy about breaking into Yugi-boy's house. Rex and Weevil were happy to go continue cracking dirty jokes with each other while Lumis and Umbra disappeared out the window jumping from roof to roof.

Marik wished he could do that. It would be so fucking awesome. He made a mental note to himself to ask them about it at the next meeting. _Meeting_. Right.

With the meeting over, Bakura stood like a hawk watching his prey.

"So Marik," he spoke slowly, "it's been a week. How are you feeling?"

"Fine. Why do you ask?" Marik feigned ignorance.

Bakura shrugged, "No reason," and took a lock of his hair to toy with, "I'm just feeling lucky."

"W-whaddya mean?" Marik stuttered.

Bakura walked toward the door, "Meet me in the graveyard tonight and find out."

"The graveyard?" Marik repeated, "Why the hell would I want to go there?"

Bakura turned his head to grin at the confused Egyptian, "Because I'll be waiting and you don't want me to be disappointed."

That much was true. Marik didn't want to get on Bakura's bad side. Or did he? Marik didn't really know Bakura's bad side. Did he want to risk finding out?

While his mind struggled to make a decision, Bakura had disappeared.

Damn that fluffy kitten for messing with his head! He'll pay for that. Tonight. Maybe. To go or not to go?

Marik grabbed both sides of his head in frustration, "Fuck."


	3. Beg Me

**The Closet Problem**

Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh! Belongs to Kazuki Takahashi. Inspired by "The EFF Hole" scene in Little Kuriboh's YGOTAS Deleted Scenes Montage, along with other references from YGOTAS, Marik's Evil Council of Doom and Bakura responding to YouTube comments. The ideas and the lines taken from the said inspiration do not belong to me. I only continue to ask: "What happens next?"

**Warning:** The lemon starts in this chapter and continues to weave its way into the story chapter by chapter even though Marik will always loudly interrupt Bakura's advances in flaming denial. Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter Three: Beg Me**

Marik didn't know exactly what time Bakura meant by "Tonight," but he harboured a guess it was probably midnight. This was Bakura we're talking about, after all. Graveyards were creepy. Marik didn't like them. He would be walking on top of dead people. DEAD PEOPLE. Of all places Bakura would choose to call him to…

AUGH—Dammit why was he up at such an ungodly hour wandering in the dark all for the sake of… For the sake of seeing his friend.

Yes. Now the only reason someone would be up at midnight to go meet someone would be to…

No. Marik was not going to think about that. He just wanted to see Bakura. He just wanted to know what his white fluffy kitty was up to.

That was all. ALL.

"Arguing with yourself?" Came the voice behind him.

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" Marik swung his Millennium Rod at the owner of the voice, embarrassed at his total lack of awareness for his surroundings due to the rambling in his head.

Bakura dodged and shook his head, having expected Marik to attack him for that, "And here I thought you were here to see me. If you want me to leave, I can do that too."

Marik scowled, "Since when did you become a doormat, Bakura? That's not like you."

"How much do you really know about me?"

That question took Marik off guard. He thought out loud, "Well I know you're gay for one thing. You like knives and blood and I know you and I are both pretty and sexy and hot even though your fashion sense is horrible and we both like to steal things and your real name is Florence and you don't like me calling you Fluffy in public. You can sing even though you don't like it and you know how to operate a camera and you can act and you would look totally hot in a pirate outfit and in leather pants even though you hate costumes because your parents thought it was funny to dress you up as Sailormoon. You have some crazy stories from college that you can't remember. Which concern picking up chicks at parties. I think that's all. Why were you picking up chicks anyway if you're gay, Bakura?"

Bakura glared at Marik, "It was funny at the time." He paused, "You know, the part when they find out I don't actually care about them."

"Oh." Marik paused, "Of course you don't care. So you mean to say you actually do remember?"

"Not really," Bakura shook his head, "Not enough that I can actually talk about it."

"Hey, how old are you Bakura?"

"Older than you," Bakura crossed his arms, "by several thousand years."

"Then does you hitting on me make you a pedophile?"

"Marik," Bakura dropped his voice, "I am currently inhabiting the body of a 16-year old boy."

"So is that a yes or a no?"

"That depends on what the legal age here is in Egypt."

"Do you know what that is?"

"No."

"Okay, then I guess it doesn't really matter."

"…"

"…"

"So was there something you wanna show me, Bakura?" Marik rubbed his arms, "I mean it's getting kinda chilly."

"Maybe you should have brought a jacket."

"Well I had no idea what you're planning so how was I supposed to know to bring a jacket?"

Marik was really… an idiot.

"Here," Bakura took off his black trenchcoat, "You can wear mine."

Marik accepted the offer wholeheartedly—who knew the cemetery would get so cold in the middle of the night? Bakura's trenchcoat was warm from having been on his body. It even smelled like him.

"Wait." Marik raised an eyebrow, "You're being nice Bakura. That's just weird. I mean I was expecting you to pull something like 'let me warm you up' or uh…"

"Glad to know your mind was in the gutter, Marik."

"Oh shut your face."

"Is that what you wanted?"

"I… um," Marik stammered, "want what?"

"My body heat."

"Hey," Marik tried to steer the conversation, "aren't you cold Bakura? I mean now you're the one without a jacket."

Bakura grabbed Marik's hand, showing him the difference in temperature. "I'm perfectly warm right now, unlike you."

"So why are we in a graveyard?"

"Tell me Marik," Bakura stood closer, keeping his grip on Marik's hand, "do any of your yaoi titles have characters fucking in a graveyard?"

"Uh… Not any that are in my collection."

"Then I believe this will be very memorable for you."

Before Marik could protest about what Bakura was up to, the white-haired teen slipped his free hand through the coat and up Marik's exposed midriff. All Marik could think about was that Bakura was much warmer than he was and if he was going to survive this night without freezing to death he really couldn't complain about the hot palm trailing up and down his chest.

No complaints there.

Especially not when Bakura decided to plant kisses up his neck and to his lips. This was what Marik came for after all, though he would never admit to anyone—not even himself that he was in a graveyard in the middle of the night seeking kisses. As Bakura's fingers danced along Marik's pectoral muscles and down over his abdomen, Marik felt his knees go weak. But leaning on Bakura for support only gave the kitty more access to Marik's body.

Marik snapped back into attention as soon as the hand slipped down his pants.

"STOP!" He roared at the top of his lungs, pushing the other boy away from him. Pointing an accusing finger at Bakura, Marik continued to shout, "I told you not below the waist Bakura!"

"Why not?"

"Why not?" The Egyptian repeated, "Because I said so!"

"That's not a reason!"

"Yes it is!"

"Are you ticklish down there or something?"

"What?" Marik gasped, "No! Just because I let you kiss me doesn't mean you can go grope me wherever you like Bakura."

"I happen to think that I can."

"That is a violation of my privacy."

"I believe the term is sexual assault."

"Yes. Wait. Are you telling me you're a sexual deviant, Bakura?"

Bakura rolled his eyes, even though Marik couldn't see them in the darkness, "Whatever was your first clue, Marik?"

"I think it was when you called me gay."

"Well you do dress the part."

"What I wear has nothing to do with being gay. It's sexy, Bakura." Marik's father had always told him he was sexy.

"Right."

Bakura couldn't decide whether he wished to see Marik or his evil alter ego, Melvin. They were the same person after all. The only difference is that Marik was stuck locked up in the closet while Melvin couldn't be contained in a closet—he probably destroyed it at first chance. If it weren't for Odion, Melvin would have actually go on a mass murdering spree and openly ask Bakura out to be his boyfriend rather than pretend they were just partners in crime seeking to rearrange Yugi's sock drawer, troll the gaming nerd's YouTube account and push the boy off a boat.

"Do you remember what I said about Thiefshipping when we first joined forces?" Bakura recalled.

"Yes."

"Do you know what that means?"

Marik paused, "It means we're partners, right?"

"More than just partners, Marik." Bakura put an arm around Marik's shoulder.

"How much more?"

"It means we despise each other to the point that nothing else in the world matters."

"Oh."

"And we express our deep hate for each other…" Bakura whispered into Marik's ear while slipping his hand beneath the coat again, "Like this."

Marik froze at the sensation of a single finger sliding up over the bulge in his pants.

"Warm yet?" Bakura asked into Marik's ear.

Marik took the time to notice that he was warm, but only in a certain area between his legs. His hands and feet seems to have donated the blood elsewhere and Marik couldn't figure out why his body could not evenly distribute the heat he was feeling.

"Is there any particular act you've read about in your yaoi collection that you'd like to enact?"

Marik thought about his favourite scene where Naruto surprise-attacked Sasuke from behind and started to turn the other boy on by grinding against him before taking a certain organ of his rival's into his mouth.

However he was unable to voice his thoughts aloud because the words died at his throat.

Instead of coherent sentences he was making… noises.

What the friggin' hell was Bakura doing to him?

"B-Bakura…" There. He managed to say something that wasn't a gasp.

The British boy licked his ear, "Yes?"

"Bakura," Marik managed not to stutter this time.

"What would you like me to do?"

"Take it out."

"Take what out?"

"Take out my…" Marik fumbled with choosing the right term, "Oh forget it," he unzipped his pants himself.

Judging by how Marik refused to touch or talk about himself, Bakura graciously helped him with the task.

Marik was growing more anxious by the minute. Or maybe he was high from the blood leaving his brain—he couldn't quite tell. That yaoi scene was playing itself over and over in his head now as Bakura's hands worked their magic. It was driving him insane.

"Put it in your mouth."

"Sorry Marik, but you're going to have to beg me for it."

Marik took a chocked breath. "Please."

"That's not good enough, I'm afraid."

"What do you want me to say?"

"My name."

"Gods, Bakura, just friggin' do it!"

"Not that name."

"Fluffy?"

"No."

"Kitty."

"Marik."

"Florence." Marik heaved, "Please."


	4. In Leather

**The Closet Problem**

Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh! Belongs to Kazuki Takahashi. Inspired by "The EFF Hole" scene in Little Kuriboh's YGOTAS Deleted Scenes Montage, along with other references from YGOTAS, Marik's Evil Council of Doom and Bakura responding to YouTube comments. The ideas and the lines taken from the said inspiration do not belong to me. I only continue to ask: "What happens next?"

**Warning:** The lemon continues in this chapter though Marik will keep loudly denying any progression in their relationship. Until next time, enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter Four: In Leather**

Excited to see Marik finally head over heels in lust, Bakura wanted to milk the moment for all it was worth. After all, Marik was sure to regret this in the morning and run back into the closet and hide from the light of day until here on after. Damned be hell if Bakura was going to let that happen.

Marik almost let out a whimper, "Florence…"

"Yes," Bakura grinned from ear to ear, "That's right."

Slowly, as lightly as he could, Bakura lowered his head and licked the tip of Marik's swollen length. Then he ran his tongue over from the base to the head, coating the entire organ in his saliva. Curious to see how much Marik could take, Bakura continued to deny him the pleasure of what the Egyptian wanted, instead planting small kisses up and down the shaft, nipping at the soft skin playfully as he did so.

He hadn't heard such ear-piercing cries in a long, long time. This was surely one of the happiest moments of his life.

The cemetery was the perfect setting for Marik to be as loud as he wanted under the cover of darkness in the cold frigid air. Despite his love of ice cubes, Marik could not handle being cold for an indefinite period of time. Had they been indoors where it was warm Marik would've put up more of a fight. They were currently standing far enough inside the vicinity that any attention they attracted would have a hard time finding them without lights or tripping over tombstones and fear disturbing the dead. Any noise could be choked up to ghosts, or Pyramid Head and Nemesis making out. It was also a turn-on for Bakura to have Marik draped over a gravestone for support.

Deciding the foreplay had been drawn out enough, the white-haired villain finally took Marik into his mouth.

All of him.

Needless to say there was progress at last.

Come the morning, Marik was absolutely furious with himself for letting Bakura worm his way though his carefully built defenses. His father would be whipping him within an inch of his life if he were still alive. What a disgrace!

At least Bakura had the decency to walk Marik home at three or four in the morning. Marik was still bloody freezing despite the heat they shared, as his blood seemed determined not to make its way back into his limbs.

He was certainly on some kind of high until he woke up. He wasn't able to fall asleep right away—the events of the night were playing on a loop until he finally passed out from exhaustion at the time he normally would've gotten up. So needless to say his morning was actually almost noon.

Dammit! _Bakura!_

Bakura had taken to sleeping on the floor next to him, and appeared to have gotten just as much sleep as Marik did—that is to say, not much.

"What the friggin' hell are you doing in my room Bakura!" Marik rubbed his temple, annoyed, "I don't remember inviting you in."

Bakura sat up, running a hand through his white locks, "You didn't seem to mind at the time."

"You!" Marik struggled to think of an insult, "Bakura, you pervert! How dare you take advantage of me in the middle of the night when I'm freezing my ass off!"

Bakura sighed, feeling a headache march its way in, "I invited you and you came willingly. In nothing but your usual skanky wear, no less. What else was I supposed to do?"

"What I wear is not skanky, Bakura!"

"It's bloody effeminate."

"Shut the fuck up about my clothes."

"You did enjoy yourself."

"I did not."

"You did beg me to take you, you know."

"You did something funny to my mind! I wasn't thinking straight!"

"That's because you aren't."

"I am straight, Bakura. STRAIGHT. Get that through your head!"

Bakura got up, the headache growing worse, "In the words of Maximillion Pegasus: Keep telling yourself that."

Marik sent his best death glare at his… friend. Partner. Whatever the Kitty was to him.

"I hate you." Marik shouted as Bakura opened the door.

Without skipping a beat or looking back as he left, Bakura replied, "I hate you too."

"Where are you going, Bakura?" Marik yelled out the door.

"To use your shower." Came the answer.

"What?" Marik jumped out of his bed in alarm, "Hey! Nobody but me uses my shower, Bakura! Get the fuck out!"

Unfortunately for Marik, Bakura had already locked the bathroom door.

Hearing the water start to pour, Marik's imagination began to undress the British teen in his mind.

"Gods! Bakura!" Marik gripped both sides of his head in a failed effort to regain his sanity, "Get the fuck out of my head!"

The diabolical laughter on the other side of the door increased his embarrassment a hundred-fold.

"You have defiled the great and mighty Marik Ishtar! Stop laughing—it isn't funny, Bakura! What do you have to say for yourself?"

The laughing continued.

"Fuck you!" Marik pounded on the door, "I know you can hear me, Bakura!"

There was some muffling noise and a chuckle, before an amused tone of voice in a familiar British accent spoke back to him:

"Well considering you still have two virgin holes, I wouldn't go as far as to say you've been deflowered yet, Marik."

Marik only glowered red at this statement. How dare—!

In an effort to keep his cool, Marik turned from the door to the kitchen to grab his ice cubes.

Bakura had never laughed so hard in a long, long time. Marik was so predictable with his oversized ego large enough to face off against Seto Kaiba's.

He wondered how much time he ought to give Marik before the next stage of his plan. After all, the longer he left Marik alone, the more desperate the boy became to see him. Bakura wanted Marik to enjoy playing his newfound memories over and over—it certainly made things more interesting that the Egyptian had an overactive imagination. Despite Marik's inability to touch himself or visualize himself in any relationship, the tanned teen openly read gay cartoon porn.

This irony amused Bakura to no end.

"Geez!" Came the familiar whiny cry of a certain blonde, "How long do you take to shower Bakura? It's been a whole five minutes!"

Again, Marik was an endless source of amusement.

"I've already made myself brunch and I need to use the bathroom! My hairbrush is in there! Get the fuck out already!"

"Say Binky-boy." Bakura taunted, grabbing a towel.

"But I never say that!" Came the annoyed retort.

"Do you want to use the bathroom or not?"

Marik hated that Bakura never simply did as he asked.

"I believe I found your hairbrush." The white-haired teenager commented from inside the bathroom.

"Fluffy, keep your perverted hands off my hairbrush!"

"Oh bollocks." Bakura continued, "I believe I may have accidentally broken it."

"BAKURA!" Marik's voice gave a gasp and wailed in extreme anguish.

"Just kidding."

"Get the fuck out of my bathroom!"

"Coming," Bakura opened the door, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

Marik only gaped at the sight before him, the anger and frustration he was seething with only a moment before vaporizing right then and there.

Because Bakura hadn't brought anything over but himself, he was wearing Marik's fluffy towel around his waist, his long white locks still dripping wet as he combed the water out with the gold-trimmed lavender brush.

His dirty clothes were lying in a heap on the bathroom floor, catching the water squeezed from his hair. Having gotten all the tangles out, Bakura put the brush down on the sink counter and proceeded to tie his hair in a ponytail using the elastic that was stolen from the bounded electric cord of Marik's hair dryer.

None of these details mattered to Marik, because his gaze was squarely fixed on Bakura's open chest that was always covered by his striped t-shirt—until right now, anyway.

When Marik was finally able to find his voice, he asked softly, "How did you get those scars?"

"Oh, these?" Bakura looked down at his chest, "I made them."

"What?"

"My host was being uncooperative, shall we say. I had to make a grand entrance somehow."

"Oh, so," Marik counted the marks, "That's from the Millennium Ring, then, huh?"

"Yes."

"I thought your host was a complete pushover."

"He is in the anime," Bakura shrugged, "since we never got the bloody screentime we were promised. This is from the manga, apparently."

"Apparently."

"You know I don't read in detail, Marik. Speaking of scars; this is the mark from when I stabbed his hand onto the toy castle tower of his favourite RPG board games."

"You two must have fought a lot, huh?"

"You wouldn't have believed it. The silly boy wanted friends who would stay by his side forever and in return for letting me use his body I decided to grant him his wish by sealing the souls of each of his friends into his Monster World doll collection."

"That's kind of twisted."

"He secretly enjoys that sort of thing. He writes letters to his dead sister, after all."

"I didn't know that."

"Well now you do. Are you done staring yet, Marik?"

Staring? Oh, right! Marik sheepishly adverted his gaze from the pale skin of his kitten.

"What was I doing?" Marik asked to no one in particular.

"You wanted to use the bathroom after me, I believe." Bakura reminded him.

"Oh right."

Marik turned his head to find his gaze yet again completely fixed on the other boy's pale features.

Bakura didn't hide his smirk. "Do you happen to have a spare change of clothing?"

"Clothing?" Marik looked at the wet heap on the ground.

"Yes." Bakura tapped his foot, impatient.

Marik used all the willpower he had left to direct his body back to his room and away from certain distraction leaning against his bathroom doorframe.

Opening the closet, he took out the leather pants they had stolen from the Pharaoh. Despite the Pharaoh's stature being quite short, the pants magically fit the size of the wearer so it was no problem for Bakura's longer legs.

Bakura had given them back to Marik after their adventure as a souvenir of sorts.

The Pharaoh had long given up getting them back and got himself a new pair from gods-knows-where.

Marik shoved the black leather into Bakura's waiting arms.

"Is this—?" The recognition bells rang in Bakura's mind.

"Yes. You look good in leather."

Bakura stared at Marik. Marik stared at Bakura.

A wicked grin snuck its way up to Bakura's face as he released the towel from around his waist.

Marik did look—only for an instant—before the heat lit up his face and he ran back to his room and shut the door. There was the sound of a 'click'.


	5. Too Sexy

**The Closet Problem**

Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh! Belongs to Kazuki Takahashi. Inspired by "The EFF Hole" scene in Little Kuriboh's YGOTAS Deleted Scenes Montage, along with other references from YGOTAS, Marik's Evil Council of Doom and Bakura responding to YouTube comments. The ideas and the lines taken from the said inspiration do not belong to me. I only continue to ask: "What happens next?"

**Warning:** More lemon and Marik will forever loudly deny anything about his closet, which doesn't stop Bakura from trying to force it open, again. Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter Five: Too Sexy**

Bakura let out another chuckle. Oh, Marik—still as shy as ever.

He put on the pants and turned to look in the mirror. Marik must have forgotten he wanted a shirt as well, or decided Bakura was too sexy for a shirt.

Wandering into the kitchen, Bakura noticed that Marik had indeed made them brunch. Popping the toast into his mouth, Bakura proceeded to help himself to whatever Marik had in his fridge. No doubt Marik would need to cool off for a bit.

Idly, he wondered if he should steal Marik's share of the food. His stomach told him to go right ahead, so he did. Marik would demand to be treated out in return, after all.

Marik began to feel suspicious that Bakura wasn't knocking on his door to bother him. Still, the fact he saw his friend completely naked was still etched onto his eyeballs and ironed on the back of his eye sockets. Damn, Bakura was sexy.

He began to take notice of the noise coming from the kitchen. Crappity-crap crap! He'd left the thief in his house to take whatever he so desired!

Marik barged out of his room to whine about stealing from him and came face to face with Bakura gnawing on a rare piece of steak.

"Ew!" Marik's face twisted into a grimace, "That's not safe to eat, Bakura!"

"It hasn't killed me yet."

"Well I don't think it's worth risking."

Bakura casually took another bite, "Suit yourself."

"Hey!" Marik saw his empty plate, "That was mine! Fuck! What the hell is with you today, Bakura? First you call me into a friggin' graveyard in the middle of the night, sleep in my room, use my shower, raid my fridge and you even deny my own breakfast?"

"You left out the part where I gave you a blowjob."

"That never happened."

"I believe it did."

"Silence!"

Bakura continued to finish of the piece of meat.

Marik wanted nothing more to kick out his unruly guest, except that his eyes refused to move from staring at Bakura in nothing but leather pants. The guy wasn't even wearing underwear. And now he had taken out a Popsicle from the freezer and was licking it very seductively.

"Are you going to stay here all week?" Marik finally asked after a very long pause.

"If you're willing to have me."

"Yes." Marik's subconscious answered before he realized that was not what he wanted, "I mean no! No! Gods, Bakura, why do you insist on coming on to me?"

"You seem to enjoy it."

"Well I am not enjoying it! Not at all!"

"Keep telling yourself that."

"Shut up!" Marik felt his composure breaking down at every knowing glance Bakura gave him. "I command you to shut the fuck up! If you want to stay you're going to have to do all my chores and be my personal slave."

"Aren't I already?"

"No! You aren't! In fact you've been doing everything I told you not to do, Bakura! I had stated very clearly before that you were not to touch me anywhere below the waist!"

"Says the guy who begged me to take him into my mouth."

Marik almost chocked on his own saliva, "Fluffy! That never happened!"

Bakura popped the flavoured ice into his mouth and pulled it out, licking his lips, "I'm very disappointed, Marik."

Marik pouted.

Bakura bit the tip of the Popsicle off, chewing it loudly.

Marik grimaced.

Bakura continued to bite chunks of ice off the Popsicle.

Marik frowned.

"What are you scowling at?" Bakura finished the treat and licked the wooden stick. "Is there something you want?"

"Yes." Marik answered without thinking. Then he stopped, unable to continue.

Bakura snapped the stick in two and tossed the wooden scraps into the trash. "What is it?"

"I'm sorry I denied it ever happened." Marik looked away. "I… I um…"

He glanced back at Bakura, who leaned back on the chair, acting bored. The afternoon sun was streaming through the window, highlighting Bakura's pale figure. He was white enough without the sun to make him look ethereal.

"Kiss me again?" Marik almost squeaked. That came out a bit higher-pitched than he'd expected.

Bakura raised an eyebrow, daring Marik to restate his request in a manlier manner.

"I'm didn't mean to disappoint you, Kitty, but I'm just…"

"…"

"My father beat it into me that I had to marry a girl to carry on the bloodline."

There. He'd said it. Marik let out a huge sigh of relief.

"But there's no need for the Tomb-keepers anymore."

"Look," Marik glared at his friend's ghostly figure, "Just because I killed my father in cold blood and ran away doesn't mean I…"

"I get it." Bakura closed his eyes, "I watched my father kill my mother. It's not something I forget, even now."

"Did he beat you and make you watch live action Disney movies and pour beer over your Xbox 360 that you never played because there were no games that came along with it?"

"The Xbox 360 didn't exist in ancient Egypt, Marik. Neither did Disney, for that matter. Though yes, my father was a drinker and a thief. I wasn't spared, though my mother got the worst end of it."

"My mother died when I was born, so technically I killed her too."

"At least you have a sister. I lost all my other relatives and friends when my entire village was sacrificed to create the Millennium items, here. This gold is my family."

"Seriously?"

"Yes."

"I never knew that."

"And now you do."

"I guess we're both pretty messed up, huh?"

Bakura got up and walked over to Marik, the sun lighting him up from behind, "Whatever gave you that impression?"

Marik's heart skipped a beat.

"I happen to take delight in the fact that my parents never loved me enough." Bakura leaned in closer to Marik's face, "Would you have me any other way?"

Marik could barely find his voice, "No…"

Bakura kissed him again, slipping his tongue between Marik's open lips. Marik had always thought the happiest moment of his life was when he first saw the sun, discovered yaoi and saw his first motorcycle. But to have another person accept him with all his faults gave him an incredible surge of bliss.

There was nothing else in the world now but the touch of skin on skin, tongue on tongue, hot and wet.

Except for the growling of his stomach.

Bakura chuckled, patting Marik's abdomen. "I forgot you haven't eaten anything yet."

Marik pouted, wishing he didn't have to eat. He didn't like coming back to reality. Besides, it wasn't like he'd never skipped a meal before. Before Bakura could leave to open the food cabinet, Marik pulled the other boy back to face him and pressed their lips together again.

Bakura was too shocked to respond. The concept of Marik kissing him back wasn't entertained since he didn't want to set his sights too high for fear of disappointment to follow. He thought Marik wouldn't kiss him back until… until much later, anyway.

Meanwhile, the blonde was seeking more of the blissful current that had run through his system just moments prior. Labels couldn't bother him right now. He was seeking sensation.

Not to be one to let go of an opportunity, Bakura wrapped his arms around the tanned boy, his fingers running up the tattoo on Marik's back. Marik normally wouldn't let anyone touch his back, or even look at it. He only took off his shirt on occasion to make a point about his tattoo being the curse of his existence. Hot knives cut it into his skin, after all.

This was another one of Marik's defenses that Bakura had now broken.

Marik found Bakura touching his scarred back didn't bother him. It felt healing, somehow. The white-haired villain had left his mouth open for Marik to explore as he pleased, so Marik couldn't be damned where Bakura's hands wanted to wander.

Having traced all the lines of the three Egyptian gods, Bakura's fingers moved around to Marik's chest to circle his nipples. The other boy practically melted, instinctively jerking up against Bakura's leg when the thief pinched each nipple between his fingers.

If anyone were to ask Bakura how he felt about his life right now, Bakura was floating too far up on cloud nine to even hear the question.

"Take it off," the paler boy tugged at Marik's shirt.

Marik had no brainpower to analyze against that statement so he complied.

As soon as the shirt fell on the ground, Bakura immediately claimed Marik's left nipple with his mouth. He rubbed the sensitive skin against his tongue and his teeth, taking pleasure in the taste. Repeating the same administration on the other nipple, his hands moved to caress the tent in Marik's pants, which was seeking to burst open.

The howl that rang through the apartment was music to his ears.

Marik's body shuddered—his member twitching against the fabric of his pants.

He needed release and Bakura was not going to give it to him fast.

"Fluffy," Marik pleaded, "can't you make this quick?"

"You need to learn to hold it in," Bakura continued to tease him with kisses along his neckline.

"I don't want to."

"Too bad." Bakura stroked the bleached blonde hair; "It gets better when you do."

"It hurts." Marik unzipped his pants, his breath panting in need.

Bakura rested both his arms over Marik's shoulders, leaning forward to kiss his nose. "Relax."

Marik shifted uncomfortably, trying to find an angle that he could get more friction from. The Egyptian was still uncomfortable with touching Bakura or himself with his hands.

Knowing Marik was distracted; Bakura slipped his hands behind Marik, sliding down his bare back below the boy's waist, checking to see if Marik would let him touch the buttocks region.

The coast seemed clear.

Marik didn't mind his ass being groped this time around. If anything, it encouraged him to grind harder against the heated protrusion in Bakura's pants.

But his mind snapped back to attention as soon as those hands slipped underneath the fabric of his pants to grab those assets skin to skin. The feeling of a finger massaging a forbidden entrance snapped Marik out of his lust-lidded gaze and he roughly shoved the other boy away, stumbling backward himself.

"Bakura!" Marik was hurt.

Bakura sighed. He was asking for too much. He should've been content that Marik kissed him back and left it there. The white-haired male lifted both his hands in defeat. There was still next time, after all.

"I'm not forcing you to open up," Bakura muttered in a sour tone, "just let me know what you don't like without biting my face off, Marik."

"I want my shirt back, Fluffy."

Bakura grabbed the garment and tossed it at his closet-chained lover.

Marik quickly pulled the top over his head, still trying to recollect his thoughts. He looked at the white-haired teenager; not noticing his fly was still open, "Where's your shirt, Bakura?"

Bakura jabbed both thumbs into the pockets of his pants and thrust his hips forward; "I'm too sexy for my shirt."


	6. For Me

**The Closet Problem**

Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh! Belongs to Kazuki Takahashi. Inspired by "The EFF Hole" scene in Little Kuriboh's YGOTAS Deleted Scenes Montage, along with other references from YGOTAS, Marik's Evil Council of Doom and Bakura responding to YouTube comments. The ideas and the lines taken from the said inspiration do not belong to me. I only continue to ask: "What happens next?"

**Warning:** No lemon in this chapter because Marik decides to STALL FOR TIME.

* * *

**Chapter Six: For Me**

The sun was still streaming from the window, though it was a bit dimmer as it began to set over the horizon.

Bakura stood, posture erect, like some kind of otherworldly king.

Marik couldn't disagree with the thief's previous statement, because that was the reason he threw only pants at Bakura. His memory was kicking in now, recalling Bakura's usual clothes were still lying ignored on the floor of his bathroom.

He reached behind his back to grab his Millennium Rod… Wait.

Where was it?

"Fuck." Marik checked the floor around him. Then he ran to his room to rampage through his covers.

Bakura followed him in, watching the pillows fly, "What is it?"

"My Rod."

"What about your Rod?"

"Did I bring it back with me from the graveyard, Bakura? Because I swear I remember trying to hit you with it."

That was right. Bakura didn't really care about the Millennium Rod after that, seeing as Marik usually put it back in the waist loop of his pants. But considering they were shuffling around in the dark, it might have dropped to the ground without either of them noticing.

"Dammit Bakura!" Marik's worry was increasing with every passing minute.

"We can re-trace our tracks, Marik." Bakura summoned his Millennium Ring.

Marik gaped at the piece of gold that magically appeared around Bakura's neck.

"How do you DO that?"

"I have magical powers. I don't really understand how it happens myself."

"Well so do I, Bakura," Marik glared, "only it just so happens my mind-control seems to have many more limitations than your darkness-summoning, time-space bending and gay energy-tracking… Whatever your vaguely established powers are."

"Blame it on the writing staff."

Marik grabbed his Rare Hunter robe, "We're going back to the graveyard before the sun sets."

"Marik."

"Come on Fluffy, let's go." Marik turned his head, "What is it?"

"You might want to zip up your pants before you walk out that door."

Marik flushed at that comment, looking down at his crotch.

"Thank me later," Bakura let his hair back down and grabbed his coat.

Marik would have to pay for interrupting their make-out session, twice.

Racing to the cemetery as fast as he could, Marik must have ran a dozen red lights and almost got both of them killed driving at high speeds while cutting corners in the alleyway.

Bakura almost threw up. _Almost_. Needless to say Marik took off as soon as he parked against the gate and ran into the graveyard, leaving the thief to slowly catch his breath.

Thankfully no one had passed the particular spot they had been the night before (it had been less than 24 hours after all) for the sparkling glitter of gold caught Marik's eye. Scooping up his most treasured possession, Marik pet the head of his Rod lovingly, "My precious…"

Bakura managed to catch up to Marik, feeling a tad jealous of the gold in the blonde's hands. Tristan Taylor's voice mocked him from the gravestone. Marik took no notice of any of this, standing up, "Okay everything's fine now, Bakura. We can go home."

"Not so fast."

"What's wrong, Bakura?"

The growl from Marik's stomach seemed to answer his own question.

"You owe me food," Marik remembered.

Bakura nodded, "Yes."

"I want tacos."

"That's fine by me."

Thankfully the Mexican restaurant wasn't too many blocks away from the cemetery, because Bakura wasn't up for Marik's insane driving too soon. They somehow ended up discussing the plan for the next council meeting while having their dinner.

"We will invade Yugi's closet and paint all his shirts pink." Marik grinned at his evil idea, "Or better yet we paint his school uniform pink! Then he'll look like a girl at school!"

"Why don't we just steal Yugi's school uniform and replace it with Téa's? Switch the two—it's much less messy and time consuming than stealing a whole can of pink paint and manually changing the colour. Plus, it will be too big on his puny little body."

"That's a very good idea, Kitty; a very Evil idea. I like it."

"Today is Sunday, which means my host has school tomorrow."

"What are you saying, Bakura?"

"I'm saying I could do it this week, before our next meeting. Also, I'm saying that I can't stay over at your house, unless I make my host skip school again."

"Oh." Marik wanted Bakura to stay. He felt connected to the other boy now. Physically connected—sort of.

"What would you like me to do?"

"Skip."

"Hmm?"

"Skip school. Hang out with me."

"His record isn't looking too great. I've been skipping all this past week already. I don't think I've let him out enough—the gaps in his memory will be problematic."

Marik looked glum, "Fine, then. Ignore me."

"Sometimes I wish I could."

Marik toyed with the ice cubes in his soda. "So you'll be going home after this, then."

"Unless you can convince me you're worth it."

Marik opened his mouth to defend himself but nothing came out. Bakura was right—his kitten was always the more reasonable one. Marik had been nothing but a whiny brat while Bakura was trying to…

"Why do you like me, Bakura? I mean, is it just because I'm pretty?"

"That plays a big role," the white-haired teenager grinned, "but I've come to enjoy your company no matter what absurdity comes out of that mouth of yours. We do share things in common after all."

"Like what?"

"Well, our dead abusive fathers, for one thing. We're both criminals and we're both secretly very lonely inside."

"Is that enough of a reason for you to skip more school to stay over at my place?"

"No, Marik, it's not. I see you every weekend."

Marik paused, then asked, "_Stand by me?_"

"No."

Marik put on a pout. "Oh. Well then. Fine. Be that way, jerk."

"That's not going to work with me this time, Marik."

"Huge smelly jerk."

Bakura kept his best death glare on.

"I love you?" Marik asked hopefully.

Bakura shook his head, "Not good enough, I'm afraid. I want you to live up to those words; walk the talk, if you dare."

The gears were turning in Marik's head. Or perhaps a few nerves short-circuited.

Bakura remained silent.

"Fuck me."

The villain raised both eyebrows in surprise, "Are you serious, Marik?"

"Look I can't explain why I'm so desperate but I need you to touch me, Bakura!"

Several people raised eyebrows at their conversation. Marik forgot how loud his voice was, seeing as the more desperate he was the louder he began to annunciate.

"Let's leave, Bakura."

Bakura stood up, "Already on it."

A flash from his Shiny Necklace left all the occupants in the restaurant temporarily blinded and erased all memory of their appearance.

The two boys walked back to Marik's motorcycle.

"Do you mean what you said?" Bakura asked solemnly.

Marik sat down on the seat, grabbing his helmet, "I've thought about it. I mean, I've been thinking about it a lot recently, er, I mean ever since last week. I really can't think of it being anybody else but you."

"I'm touched."

"But that still doesn't make me gay, Bakura. You're an exception. I am still 100% genuinely straight."

Bakura wanted to slam his head against a wall. Right now.

"I am not interested in men." Marik continued. "You caught me off guard, running in front of my motorcycle declaring me the source of gay energy you were tracking. I've never actually looked at any other real guy before."

"Isn't that flattering?" Bakura muttered rhetorically, knowing Marik didn't look at women either.

"Anyway, in case you've forgotten, Bakura." Marik put his helmet on, "Your clothes are still in my bathroom. So get on."

Reluctantly, the thief got on the vehicle seat behind Marik and put on a helmet.

The drive back wasn't that bad. Marik had no need to speed. He was content to spend as much time as possible with the British teenager before he would eventually have to surrender the boy to his other personality—the one that wasn't an ancient Egyptian spirit who called himself the King of Thieves.

Marik's confession stirred a warm feeling in Bakura. It was such a rare gem in his life to feel unconditionally appreciated. He was born into a poor, miserable family, lived a miserable life and compensated for it using riches, lies and an egotistic persona like everyone else around him. He was a sinister, manipulative, diabolical outlaw that lived to perpetrate misery and make the Pharaoh's life a living nightmare—revenge for the death of his loved ones, after all.

When they got back to Marik's apartment, Bakura set his clothes out to dry. They were half-dry already, but he didn't feel like changing back into them. Especially when Marik practically ordered him not to, Bakura dropped the trench coat and walked around shirtless again.

"So," Marik found himself in an awkward predicament, "I. Uh…"

Why did he ask the other boy to fuck him again?

Bakura remained silent, which meant he was up to something. The villain sat down on Marik's couch against the armrest, swinging his legs onto the cushions and making himself comfortable like a lazy cat.

It was getting dark again.

Marik knew what Bakura wanted him to do. The only trouble was convincing his body to actually… Move over there.

He didn't want to disappoint Bakura again, so running back to his room and ignoring the feline was not an option—although maybe Bakura would follow him into his bed if he did that. But only Marik slept in Marik's bed. No exceptions.

Without his conscious awareness, the Egyptian mastermind found himself sitting on Bakura's lap—the thief took up the entire length of the couch, after all.

They remained motionless in that position for seconds ticking.

Marik knew Bakura was waiting for him to make the first move this time around.

"Uh, I was just wondering, Bakura," Marik tried to cover whatever nervousness he was now feeling by speaking his mind in his usual manner, "I know you're not much of a reader but do you happen to take interest in looking at pornographic comic books?"

"Not really. They're just ink blotches on paper."

Marik's face fell, "Oh."

"What's in it for me if I look at them?"


	7. Oh My

**The Closet Problem**

Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh! Belongs to Kazuki Takahashi. Inspired by "The EFF Hole" scene in Little Kuriboh's YGOTAS Deleted Scenes Montage, along with other references from YGOTAS, Marik's Evil Council of Doom and Bakura responding to YouTube comments. The ideas and the lines taken from the said inspiration do not belong to me. I only continue to ask: "What happens next?"

**Warning:** This is the lemon you've all been patiently waiting for. Will Marik STILL deny being gay? Bakura holds his breath. Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter Seven: Oh My**

"Well they give you ideas for one thing." Marik defended his hobby.

"I think I have much better ideas than any mere mortal would ever care to dream about."

Marik paused, "If you never read anything then how do you know all this stuff about, uh, touching and kissing?"

"It's called experience, Marik."

"So who else have you fucked?"

"Look," Bakura sat up, keeping the other boy in his lap, "I've been around for five thousand years. Do you really think I remember such trivial details such as the names of mortals who I've fucked?"

"I would've thought that it's important, Bakura. You don't just go sleeping around with anybody."

"But you can and I did."

Marik remained silent for a good three seconds ticking before asking, "So am I any different?"

"Of course you're different!" Bakura spat, enraged at Marik's insensitivity, "I could have fucked your brains out the moment I first saw you and left you in the alleyway to rot."

"Well that certainly doesn't sound pleasant." The other boy quickly agreed.

Bakura glowered at Marik's stupidity.

Marik continued, oblivious to the daggers being sent his way by Bakura's glare, "But weren't you stuck in a piece of jewelry for most of that time?"

"The Millennium Ring is not a piece of jewelry." The sheer ignorance of that statement was getting on Bakura's nerves, "I happen to be aware of each and every mortal I was passed down to—for if they weren't the right vessel I destroyed them by burning them up in flames from inside out."

"And the right vessel happens to be a British kid in his teens who writes letters to his dead sister."

"He's my reincarnation."

"Right," Marik nodded, thinking that Bakura's host was probably about as virgin as he was.

Getting impatient with all the chit-chat Marik used to stall for time, Bakura slid a hand up Marik's shirt.

"Hey Fluffy," Marik continued, "do you think your host would care about us, um, being together?"

"That's none of his business," Bakura idly stroked the tanned skin.

"It is his body."

"Why? Do you want me to ask his permission?"

"No, I was just thinking it would be pretty funny if he woke up after you and I…"

"I like that idea Marik." Bakura licked the boy's ear, "I'd like to see how you'd explain to him how we fucked."

"Uh…" Marik didn't know if he could do that.

Bakura continued to pester the blonde; "If you want practice telling my host how I seduced you into begging for my touch I could give him consciousness right now."

"No!" Marik jumped as his nipple was tweaked, "T-that won't be necessary."

"I had originally intended to tell him myself, but now I'm thinking it would be much more amusing if he heard it from you first."

Gods! Marik cursed his loud mouth for bringing up the topic in the first place. He was fully aware of the hard bump between his buttocks while Bakura pulled his shirt over his head.

"So Marik," Bakura whispered into his ear, "do you want me to fuck you or do you want to fuck my host?"

"I am not fucking anybody." Marik exclaimed, extremely uncomfortable with the idea and noting of the circles being drawn on his chest, "And I definitely like you better, Fluffy."

"That's what I thought." The villain grinned and proceeded to kiss Marik along the collar of the boy's neck.

Deciding it was best to shut up now—before anything else he would later regret came tumbling out of his mouth, Marik twisted his neck to the side to give Bakura more access.

The Egyptian mastermind was still trying to delay the inevitable: his earlier promise to let Bakura have him didn't sit well with his conscious ego.

Thankfully, that part of his ego was rapidly shutting down as pale and slender fingers caressed his crotch.

His subconscious ego liked this a lot better. Especially kissing—he liked kisses.

Marik was dully aware his breaths came in gasps now, unzipping his pants again. The thief helped him remove the garment.

"Get down," Bakura ordered.

Marik didn't like this preposition. It reminded him too much of all the times he was tortured by his father as a kid. Seeing the hesitation in Marik's eyes, Bakura decided to try a different tactic, "Nevermind, stay here. Just stand up."

Standing up, Marik could do.

"Are you sure you're okay with this, Marik? You never did specify when you wanted me to fuck you."

"I…" Marik swallowed the lump in his throat, "I want it to be now."

The blonde had no idea when was the next time he could subdue his conscious, so there was no running away from it now.

Seeming to have read Marik's thoughts, the villain asked, "You're not going to run away?"

"I've made my decision, Bakura."

Especially since Marik would never be able to look his partner in the eye again without feeling regret when he remembered their lingering, unfulfilled promise. Keeping Bakura perpetually sexually frustrated was probably not good for his health in the long run.

"Even if," the thief paused, "it pains you?"

Marik didn't want to be left in an alleyway to rot, "I'm not a friggin' pansy, Bakura. Crap. I've probably been through worse pain, though I was muffled and tied down while it happened."

"Well you never know." Bakura continued to stroke him, "I just don't want to be shoved away in the middle of it."

"I promise not to attack you, Fluffy."

"Maybe I should grab a muffler."

"Shut the fuck up and friggin' do it already, Kitty!" Marik wasn't sure when Bakura became the talkative one.

"As you wish."

Bakura took out the tube of lube he had hidden in the couch earlier that morning when Marik had passed out coming home from the graveyard. The thief knew he had the patience of a god—he'd been planning raids and robbery all his life. The more thought-out the plan, the greater chance it had of seeing success. It was all in the execution.

The blonde was surprised to hear Bakura screw open the cap and rub something cool and moist against his asshole.

"What is that?" Marik asked aloud, trying to turn his head to look while standing, unmoving.

"Lubrication."

"Oh."

"Relax your sphincter muscles."

"I don't know what that means."

"It means: let me in."

Marik tried his best to follow Bakura's instructions, but it was so confusing! Stuff was not supposed to go in that way—it went out.

Eventually, the white-haired villain was able to slip a single coated digit inside the Egyptian.

"Good," Bakura encouraged the boy.

Marik loved the sound of his kitten's voice. It was dark and deep and totally sexy. The finger inside him felt strange, but it wasn't painful or anything. The blonde found that relaxing those muscles meant pretending to poo and push out even though there was something going in. It was the strangest sensation he'd ever experienced.

Bakura managed to wiggle his way into slipping in another coated finger, making sure to sufficiently cloak and massage the interior muscle in preparation for what came next.

He'd been ignoring his own needs for a while now, focusing on making his partner a willing participant.

Keeping his fingers working and stretching the tanned ass, Bakura unzipped his own pants with his free hand, pulling his throbbing cock free of the tight, black leather and coating it with the lubricant.

How long he had waited for this moment!

Marik felt the fingers slip out, feeling a tad disappointed. So maybe he enjoyed the feeling after all.

Then something hot and hard pressed against him.

Oh shit.

"Let me in," Bakura ordered, grabbing both sides of Marik's hips.

The Egyptian instinctively bent over at a more comfortable angle, pushing his muscles apart as he was penetrated from behind.

Bakura kept an even pace driving forward, surprised that Marik was quite the natural at accommodating the discomfort. He was expecting some painful screaming and cursing that usually came with an ass unaccustomed to being stretched, in which case he'd have to offer more comforting words and try all over again.

Meanwhile, Marik was surprised that having an erect penis inside of him felt like an extremely large piece of poo. He mentally berated himself for thinking such a dirty, inappropriate thought. It was an extremely insulting thought to both Bakura and himself. At least it wasn't all that painful—sure there had been a jolt of stinging here and there, but it passed relatively quickly like pushing out a giant mass of stool. Fuck, there was that thought again. Marik hated his mind sometimes; at least he wasn't voicing his thoughts aloud or Bakura would possibly have to strangle him.

The white-haired teen was happily ignorant of Marik's inner rambling, for it wasn't often that Marik never said anything. The grunts and moans were more than enough to tell him all was well. The heat and friction were stripping him of his usual considerate rationality.

If Bakura could award Marik for something today, it would be not only his willingness to loose his virginity to him but also his stamina. The pale-skinned thief rammed the boy fast and slow, thrusting deep and shallow, testing the waters. Marik took all of it, including being slammed from tip to base, arching his spine to let Bakura dig further inside. Bakura knew Marik was used to honing endurance considering the boy's past, but he still appreciated that it could be put to better use—more pleasurable use.

Tanned fingers gripped his pale wrists and after a good half hour they both lay exhausted on the couch, catching their breath. Bakura had sat down first having come and pulled out. Knowing Marik wouldn't masturbate yet, the white-haired teen took the neglected member into his mouth and helped release the pent-up seed within. Soon Marik was also lying down on top of Bakura, tired and beat.

Stroking the blonde hair, Bakura waited for Marik to speak. Marik remained silent for a few minutes more before he finally decided, "That wasn't bad."

"It gets better."

"Wait. You didn't use a condom."

"Did I need to? You're not a woman."

Marik raised a hand to tap his kitten on the nose, "You're not diseased or anything, are you Bakura?"

"Considering I haven't fucked anyone in this body yet, I should hope not."

"Wait. So you mean to say all your experience was when you were in ancient Egypt?"

"Most of them. We didn't have condoms in those days."

"Whaddya mean, most of them, Kitty?"

"I've had other hosts before. They just didn't last long."

"Is this like," Marik's brain snapped back into gear, "back in your college days—whenever that was?"

At this moment Bakura decided to let his host come to. Bakura (the other one) blinked, taking in the situation he was in.

The last thing the boy remembered was going to sleep on a Friday night having finished all his homework so that he could have the weekend free to spend with Yugi and his friends. Now he lay naked on a couch that wasn't his, being pinned down by a stranger he didn't know who was also devoid of clothing and the calendar on the wall told him that exactly two weeks had gone by. The aching, euphoric sensation coursing through his body told him all that he really wished _not _to know. The soft-eyed teen raised both his eyebrows in shock, "Oh my."

"Fuck." Marik cursed as soon as he realized what (yami) Bakura had just done.

A cute blush crept across Bakura's face (you know the one).


	8. Love Me

**The Closet Problem**

Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh! Belongs to Kazuki Takahashi. Inspired by "The EFF Hole" scene in Little Kuriboh's YGOTAS Deleted Scenes Montage, along with other references from YGOTAS, Marik's Evil Council of Doom and Bakura responding to YouTube comments. The ideas and the lines taken from the said inspiration do not belong to me. I only continue to ask: "What happens next?"

**Warning:** The awkwardness level of this chapter is skyrocketing off the charts.

* * *

**Chapter Eight: Love Me**

"Hi there." Marik tried to break the awkwardness by talking.

The blush was growing stronger as Bakura shifted his weight against the other male.

"I don't know if you remember me but," Marik continued, unaware of Bakura's discomfort, "My name's Marik. Marik Ishtar."

Bakura's eyes widened in recognition—cor blimey! This was the boy who had found him doubled-over with wanker's cramp in the alley and helped him find his friends to be taken to the hospital.

If possible, that memory made him flush even darker. Oh bugger. The only reason he would even have wanker's cramp was if he or that boy…

"My name's Bakura. Ryou Bakura. It's so nice to meet you again," the white-haired boy whispered, finding his voice cracking. He didn't want to upset this new friend of his by whatever it was his other self did with him, "I must have dozed off again. I don't remember what we were doing."

"Uh," Marik really didn't want to elaborate on what they were doing.

"I'm so sorry," the paler boy continued, "I'm sure it must have been really important. If you don't mind, I'd like to sit up."

Marik quickly got off the British goody-two-shoes and sat on the furthest end of the couch. Damn that friggin' human Furby for making him deal with this… This—!

"Um, I don't suppose you'll enlighten me in regards to what I'm doing on your couch." Bakura continued to ask politely.

"Eh, we were uh…" Marik racked his brain for an alibi, "We were comparing our skin color. Yes."

Bakura blinked at the obvious lie. Well, he wasn't really up for discussing how sore his willy was, "Marik, right?"

"Right."

"Marik." Bakura tested the name on his tongue again, "Could I have a glass of water?"

"Sure," Marik stood up, desperate to do anything to break the awkward situation.

Bakura took the opportunity to get a better view of his surroundings. He wasn't in a hotel; the décor was far too personal. He really needed to cool off—the concept of being in another man's apartment, not to mention the lingering smell of sex, was really not easing his anxiety in the slightest.

The boy took a deep breath, trying to figure out what he should do or say.

"Here's your water." A glass was shoved in his face.

Bakura took the glass shyly and sipped it with utmost courtesy.

Marik wanted to grab both sides of his head and scream in frustration, but that would only serve to make him look like a crazy person. He was crazy but he wasn't _that _crazy.

The two of them remained silent for what felt like an eternity.

"How did I get here?" Bakura finally asked.

"You, uh," Marik was not going to say, "you gave me a blowjob at midnight in the middle of the fucking graveyard and walked me home at an ungodly hour this morning."

Bakura's face turned beet red immediately.

"Oh crap in a bucket," Marik cursed, "did I say that out loud?"

The other boy couldn't look the Egyptian in the eye anymore. Marik wanted to jump into a hole deep underground where he would never be discovered again.

"I'm sorry if that offended you in any way," Bakura started to say but Marik was quick to defend the other Bakura.

"No, I wasn't offended at all," Marik was surprised at his own words, "I was just taken by surprise."

"I am too." Bakura narrowed his gaze, "That bloody voice in my head is laughing like a maniac right now."

Oh, Marik thought, Fluffy was actually listening to this. Crap!

The white-haired boy continued, "I guess this is his way of setting me up with someone he deems worthy."

"Yeah, maybe." Marik agreed.

"You mean you actually like him?" Bakura asked the blonde.

"Yes," Marik answered without thinking again, "I mean, we're uh, friends. Partners."

"Lovers?"

"No."

Bakura raised an eyebrow. They weren't a couple?

Marik was talking to himself now, "We're definitely not lovers."

Meanwhile, the paler boy was trying to make sense of the situation, "So you aren't in love with him but we have casual sex?"

"Wh-waitaminute," Marik stammered, "who said anything about sex?"

Bakura turned his gaze to rest on the pants that were on the floor. He didn't recognize either of them as his.

"I feel extremely left out." The British teenager put on his best pout.

"I can't see why you can't remember anything while the other Bakura can hear what we're saying," Marik glared at the Millennium Ring, which mysteriously appeared out of the air yet again.

Bakura gave a sigh, "I don't understand that either."

There was another awkward silence.

"Which one of these is mine?" Bakura pointed to the pants.

Marik quickly grabbed his pants and his shirt, briskly replying, "The leather pants."

"When did I get this?"

"We stole it together."

"What?"

"Oh crap, I mean," Marik was really bad at lying, "The Phar—Yugi gave me one of his pants as a present."

"This is Yugi's?" Bakura couldn't make sense of what Marik was saying at all.

"Nevermind, just put them on."

"Where's my underwear?"

"Drying," Marik turned to the kitchen, "on the chair over there."

"Oh," the teen noticed the rest of his clothes and went to grab them. "How did they get wet?"

"You know what?" Marik glowered at the prospect of putting up with answering all these questions for the other Bakura, "Why don't you just ask the voice in your head? He tells it better than I can."

"He's still laughing."

Dammit! Kitty! Marik wanted to pound something.

"Am I sleeping over," Bakura continued to ask softly, "with you?"

"No, this was just a one night thing…" unless the other Bakura came back, thought Marik angrily as he sent daggers at the Ring with his best evil glare of absolute doom.

"I don't know how to get back home since I can't remember how I got here. Where do you live?"

"Somewhere in Egypt and sometimes in Japan. I don't really know. I guess that isn't very helpful information."

"No, it's not…" Bakura was happy to be dressed in his usual clothes, the leather pants lying neglected on the couch.

"Can you call the other Bakura back?" Marik was hopeful.

"You miss him?" This Bakura was hurt. This was his body after all and he seemed to be unable to live his life most of the time. This boy preferred the other Bakura?

Marik hated to see Bakura's disappointed face. It really stung something deep inside of him.

"I don't miss him that much," Marik lied, "it's just that we were in the middle of a conversation, that's all."

"But between the both of us, you'd rather spend time with him." Bakura stated knowingly.

"Yes," Marik hated how he kept talking without censoring himself, "but I like you too. You're um… you're still Bakura, in some way."

The other boy sat back down on the couch, "I wish I could remember. It isn't bloody fair that he gets to sod off whenever he likes. I have feelings too."

Marik had nothing to say in response to that.

"That bloke won't even let me take part in my own first time. Do you have any idea how I feel right now?"

"Uh," Marik harboured a guess, "extremely angry?"

"I'm always being forgotten. Even Yugi's friends barely acknowledge my presence. We go to the same bloody school and they still act like I don't exist. It's bloody frustrating, that's what."

Marik wasn't going to say that he forgot Bakura had another self too.

"I guess there's nothing I can do about my character to make me more memorable."

"No, there's not."

"You don't have to agree with me so readily, Marik."

Crap. Marik didn't mean to say that aloud.

"I guess it's too much to ask to be included in your little friendship with my other self."

Marik managed to keep his mouth shut this time around, "…"

"Marik…" Bakura looked up at the Egyptian with his large, chocolate orbs.

Marik took a step back, "What?"

The British boy looked back down, a slight flush to his cheeks, "It's getting rather late. We should probably go to bed."

"You sleep on the couch." Marik stated quickly, "I don't share my bed."

"Oh." Bakura blinked, "Is that why we were on the couch?"

"No, we were…" Marik didn't know why the other Bakura decided to do it on his couch.

"If you don't want to tell," Bakura sighed sadly, "I won't force you to."

"No, that's not it," Marik defended again without thought, "I really don't know how we ended up on the couch. Honestly."

"You're a nice guy."

"I know." Marik mentally slapped himself, "I mean thanks."

"Do I get a blanket and a pillow?"

"Oh right," Marik went off to grab one, "that can be arranged."

Bakura wondered if he ought to sleep on the floor instead. The fact that the scent of sex was still on the couch wasn't going to will him to sleep any time soon.

Marik came back to toss a blanket over his head, throwing the pillow on the couch, "Good night."

"Good night," Bakura pulled the blanket off his white mop of hair. He was embarrassed to admit that he actually liked this Marik Ishtar despite knowing this boy was doing it with his other self. Besides, no one else has paid him so much attention on screen yet, so it wasn't like he was going to be choosy. Considering the lack of screentime he was often given, he should be grateful to have gotten to interact with Marik at all, let alone be sleeping on the boy's couch.

Worse things have happened to him—like being attacked by bloody hounds and having his torso sliced in half and having his ribs shattered by a near-fatal glomp attack...

Maybe sleeping on the couch wasn't that uncomfortable after all.

Meanwhile Marik was back in his room trying to think of a good plan. How would he get his kitten to come back out to him? He really didn't want to have to deal with this Bakura come the morning as well. This Bakura was annoying with his innocent, cute shemale personality. Wait a minute—did he just say cute?

Marik opened his bedroom door a creak, deciding to check on his guest.

Bakura was lying on the couch, hugging the blanket. The boy had too much on his mind to fall asleep. Turning around, he caught sight of Marik.

"Uh," Marik found himself in an awkward situation again and took up the host role, "Is there anything else you'd like?"

"Pretend to love me?" Bakura pleaded, "I won't ask for anything more."

Crap in a _hundred_ buckets. How was Marik going to get out of this one?


	9. Fluffy Kitty

**The Closet Problem**

Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh! Belongs to Kazuki Takahashi. Inspired by "The EFF Hole" scene in Little Kuriboh's YGOTAS Deleted Scenes Montage, along with other references from YGOTAS, Marik's Evil Council of Doom and Bakura responding to YouTube comments. The ideas and the lines taken from the said inspiration do not belong to me. I only continue to ask: "What happens next?"

* * *

**Chapter Nine: Fluffy Kitty**

"Considering I'm even less memorable than that Mako Tsunami bloke," Bakura continued to ramble, depressed.

Marik had never heard of that name before, "Who?"

"The Freaky Fish Guy?"

"I still don't know who that is."

"Well I guess I've one-upped him in this case." A smile finally crept its way up the British boy's face.

"So is this about," Marik tried to keep his composure, "being memorable?"

"I believe I have a right to happiness, false or true," Bakura explained, "and since I don't know when's the next chance I have at getting any screentime, I'd like to…" He trailed off, embarrassed at his earlier outburst.

Marik decided to clarify, "Well, I don't love anybody, so I can't pretend to love..."

Bakura sighed, looking up a Marik, "Then all I ask for is a kiss. That's not too much is it?"

Marik stared at the pale teen with wide eyes. In theory, he could do it—I mean Bakura's body was still the other's Bakura's body and he had no problem kissing Fluffy. In fact they had the same scent and everything, except that it _wasn't_ Fluffy.

Why did Bakura have to keep messing with his friggin' sanity?

Wait a moment, Marik suddenly had a stroke of infallible insight—maybe Fluffy would come back out if Marik kissed Bakura. The kitten was rather possessive, after all. But would he be angry with Marik for doing so? Even if (yami) Bakura was angry, Marik could fix that, somehow. Hopefully.

It was kind of weird that now Marik was the one with experience, with Bakura still lying on the couch facing him, timid and confused.

"You're gay too?" Marik finally found his voice to break the silence.

"I'm not gay, I'm just British," the Limeyman decided to sit up since he wasn't feeling any more tired in horizontal position, "Though I haven't really had the chance to explore considering the other me is in my body all the time when we ever DO get any screen time. I did tell my fangirls at school that I was gay hoping it would keep them at bay but it only made things worse. Now all the boys act like giant wankers convinced of my homosexuality and I don't have any real friends except Yugi, who understands what it's like to have another self that bullies you around."

"The Pharaoh is a big bully, isn't he?"

"Pharaoh? Oh, is that what you call the other Yugi?"

"Yes."

"Yugi and I don't get to talk to each other very often; he's always surrounded by his circle of friends who don't acknowledge me as part of their group."

"So you just get chased around by effing fangirls at school."

"Pretty much," Bakura nodded sadly.

"That's a pretty pathetic existence."

"You don't have to tell me," Bakura sighed, "I live it."

"I didn't mean to rub it in," Marik regretted speaking out loud again, "I just can't shut up sometimes."

"I've noticed, but at least you're honest to yourself."

The diabolical laughter in his head increased a thousand-fold. Bakura raised both his hands to cover his ears despite knowing that it wouldn't silence the thief.

The Egyptian was concerned at this, "Is something the matter?"

"The laughing is really loud now."

Marik glared, then rolled his eyes. His kitten must have wanted him to kiss this other Bakura after all. Marik was defeated, "Maybe he'll shut up if you get your kiss."

The white-haired boy wasn't really expecting Marik to kiss him—he saw the hesitation in Marik's violet eyes—but was pleasantly surprised that the blonde actually did.

Not to miss this one chance, Bakura kissed Marik back.

The response was initially timorous, but his nervousness ceased when Marik sought to slip his tongue through the boy's teeth. Bakura opened up, and Marik was having a hard time telling whether Bakura had switched back into Fluffy.

When they pulled away Marik was disappointed to find that this Bakura was still here, with the cutest flushed look on his normally pale features. Dammit! Bakura!

They remained silent, afraid to look away but knowing a certain spirit was watching them. If only strangling Bakura would bring the other one back, Marik thought grimly.

"Thanks." A soft British accent broke through the awkwardness.

"Uh," Marik glanced at the clock, "I guess I should probably see you tomorrow now that you've had your good night kiss."

The white mop of hair nodded, still blushing, pulling the blanket back over his body.

Marik went back to his room, his mind full of questions. Somehow he willed his tired body to sleep and the night passed blissfully.

The next morning Marik awoke alone in his room. He usually woke up alone since he usually slept alone, but remembering that Bakura had been on the floor next to his bed the other night made him secretly wish the kitten was there again, so he'd had someone to talk to. Or yell at, since he had so many unanswered questions for Fluffy.

The Egyptian went about his usual morning routine, all the time thinking of how it was rudely interrupted the day before. Bakura had used his shower, his soap, his shampoo, and his hairbrush… Marik wondered if Bakura even used his toothbrush. That was another question added to the list of things to demand Fluffy answer.

His guest was still sleeping on the couch—or rather, pretending to sleep on the couch. Bakura was only able to get a little bit of rest, the shocking events of yesterday keeping him ever wakeful. He didn't want to bother Marik, since the other male had already graciously allowed him to sleep over with a blanket and a pillow. Bakura wasn't sure if asking Marik for a spare toothbrush was appropriate; he could wait until he got home, after all.

Hearing footsteps in the kitchen, Bakura dropped his sleep act and sat up. He folded the blanket neatly and set it aside on the couch with the pillow on top, checked his reflection in the window and went to greet the blonde good morning.

"So you're awake," Marik commented as he poured milk over his cereal.

Bakura sat down in the other seat, "Good morning, Marik."

"Are you feeling better about yourself yet?"

Bakura let out a laugh and smiled sweetly, "Thanks to you, yes."

Marik wasn't used to getting such compliments. It was so friggin' annoying. He wasn't normally nice—what the hell came over him when he was around this pasty white albino creampuff?

"I don't suppose you have any tea?"

Marik shook his head. He really didn't.

"Could I get a bowl?" The boy in question asked.

Marik pointed to the cupboard next to the sink, "It's over there. Friggin' get it yourself."

Bakura stood up to help himself to breakfast, seeing as Marik wasn't going to serve him. Despite Marik's initial preoccupation with his cereal being his excuse not to act like a proper host, the blonde found his eyes trailing the other teen's movements to follow Bakura's ass to the sink and back to the table.

In fact he forgot about his cereal altogether as he watched the British kid took his cereal box to pour himself a bowl and opened his milk carton. There wasn't anything special about eating cereal for breakfast but the Egyptian was completely mesmerized. He usually ate by himself and so the sight of sharing his kitchen table with someone was like the biggest new entertainment ever. Having company was totally distracting.

Snap out of it, Marik!

Bakura noticed that Marik hadn't moved since he sat down and began to devour the cereal, "Am I eating to heartily?" The boy blushed, wondering why Marik would be staring.

"No," Marik quickly turned his attention back to his own breakfast, "I'm just not used to having company. Odion used to—"

"—Who?"

"My step-brother."

"Oh."

"We used to live together. But since Battle City he's gone to spend time with my sister back home whereas I wanted to try living independently for a change."

"So you've been alone for a while now."

"Yes."

"I've been living on my own as well." Bakura decided to continue their conversation, "My sister and my mummy were involved in a car accident when I was young, and so I lost both of them. My father also died a mysterious death on one of his trips to Egypt. I'm starting to think that anything to do with Egypt happens to be cursed."

"You got that right." Marik thought of his childhood.

"Before he died he gave me the Millennium Ring," Bakura lifted the gold to make his point, "and suddenly everyone around me began to fall into bloody comas. Even though I've been a good boy in my mummy's memory, I was deemed cursed by every school I was transferred to, since anyone who came in contact with me mysteriously disappeared."

Marik had to give his kitty a thumbs-up for being so incredibly Evil.

"I don't suppose he's caused you any trouble, has he?"

"Uh," Marik didn't want to admit they did Evil together, "Not really."

"What do you two do together?"

Marik managed not to say anything. Bakura immediately flushed as the implications of his innocent question became apparent to him.

"I mean," the limey boy tried again, "How do you two hang out?"

"We share beauty tips…" Marik tried to think of things he did with Kitty that were not related to defeating Yugi Motou, "And ride on my obligatory anime motorcycle."

Just then, an evil idea popped into his head.

"We also dress up in costumes and attend anime convention as extremely sexy cosplayers. Everyone loves it when Bakura sings with me."

"Oh my." Bakura couldn't imagine the other Bakura doing that—it seemed so out of character.

Marik was having fun teasing his kitten through his host now, "We also make movies together because he tends to agree to any stupid plan of mine that I care to make up. His character is a gay elephant named Billy."

Bakura could only think of one reason why the voice in his head would agree to such idiocy; the other Bakura really was in lo—

"—Marik," Bakura scowled at the Egyptian.

"What is it, Kitty?"

"I'm going to kill you."

Marik was too overjoyed to hear that deep, evil voice of the Spirit that he wasn't concerned about any threat of murder to his being. The blonde almost jumped off his chair in an effort to close the space between their bodies.

Just half an hour of talking to the other freaking limey did that to him. It was a complete and utter nerve-racking experience! He'd never been so friggin' anxious in his life!

"The elephant was named Jonathan."

"It doesn't matter what his name was because I am the director and what I say goes."

"Also, I don't cosplay." Bakura growled; his lips pulled into a grim frown.

"Oh come on Bakura," Marik grinned, "I could help you with your costume."

"No."

"Yes! Perfect!"

"What?"

"You! Gods!" Marik shouted to the ceiling, "I don't know how you put up with that host of yours but he's way too freaking nice! It annoys me!"

"You just haven't gotten around to knowing his evil side."

"Aren't you his evil side, Bakura?"

"More evil than he could ever hope to be, but that's not to say I can't act nice too."

"I hate you, Bakura. I had to put up with your cute and goody host since last night!"

"It was your idea."

"It was not."

"I believe it was."

"Was not! I missed you." Marik hugged Bakura before the other male could retort, "You're my Fluffy Kitty."

"Not a kitty."


	10. Being Straight

**The Closet Problem**

Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh! Belongs to Kazuki Takahashi. Inspired by "The EFF Hole" scene in Little Kuriboh's YGOTAS Deleted Scenes Montage, along with other references from YGOTAS, Marik's Evil Council of Doom and Bakura responding to YouTube comments. The ideas and the lines taken from the said inspiration do not belong to me. I only continue to ask: "What happens next?"

**Warning:** Enjoy some more lemon before this fanfic concludes—or maybe not.

* * *

**Chapter Ten: Being Straight**

Hearing that snappy reply was music to Marik's ears. The world seemed complete at that moment.

Now that the thief was back in control, he figured he'd live up to his promise to hang out with the Egyptian in return for the fucking they did the night before. His host could always go back to school next week. Or the week after that, depending on how generous the Spirit of the Millennium Ring was feeling.

"So what are we going to do today?" Bakura asked Marik.

"The same thing we do every day, Binky-boy!" Marik roared gleefully, "Try to take over the world!"

"I told you so," Bakura smirked, "you do say Binky-boy."

"It's only because I'm making fun of you, _Kitten_."

"_Shut up_, Marik."

"I have an idea. I say we watch a Pokémon movie. You know, that one with the psychic kitty cat."

"Mewtwo Returns?"

"Yeah, that's the one."

"Not interested. Not enough blood. It's a children's movie."

"Hey! I liked that movie. Giant prick."

"Bloody Yank."

"Jackass." Marik stuck out his tongue, "Go fuck yourself."

Bakura unzipped his jeans, "Gladly."

"Wait! No!" Marik cried, throwing his arms in the air, "That is not what I meant!"

Still, the Egyptian couldn't help staring.

The white-haired limey proceeded to give Marik a striptease.

Wide-eyed, the Egyptian blonde let his jaw drop. He wasn't expecting this.

Bakura couldn't explain why that insult from Marik turned him on so much. But seeing the boy's priceless expression as he slowly pulled his shirt over his head fed his lustful appetite and left him still hungry for more. Turning around with a swing to his hips, Bakura stepped out of his jeans, leaving Marik to watch every contour of his behind. He then leisurely turned back around and casually walked toward the blonde with an evil grin on his lip, "I have you now, my pretty."

If Marik found that insulting, it swiftly went in one ear and out the other. There was a naked man in front of him, which was far more important.

The writer will now leave you to your imagination because writing their verbal banter is far more amusing.

Wait. You're only here to read the EFF-ing sex scene, aren't you?

All right. Merry Christmas. Here you go:

Bakura leaned forward and claimed Marik's open mouth. The two of them began to make out as they pleased, studio audience be damned. The unresolved sexual tension had been stretched far enough. In fact, Marik wondered why he was still fully dressed. He was itching to remove his clothes, save for the fact both his wrists were currently being held over his head against a wall.

"Fluffy."

"Yes?"

"Strip me."

"With pleasure."

Marik blinked, surprised he got his wish so easily. Bakura had been such a tease before. Well, there's something new you learn every day—I think that's how the saying goes.

"Keep the bling." Marik commanded.

"Of course."

"I meant to ask you this last night, Fluffy," Marik gripped Bakura's hair as the pale-skinned thief let go of Marik's wrists to run his hands along the blonde's inner thigh, "but when did you hide a tube of lube in my couch?"

"While you passed out."

"And where did you get it?"

"I stole it from the local drugstore. Their security camera had a blind spot."

"Of course you would," Marik grinned. That was the Evil Bakura he knew and wouldn't trade for anyone else. "You didn't beep?"

"There wasn't a magnetic chip on it. Even if there was, nobody can tell if you just happen to exit at the same time as a shopper with one too many bags full. They'd think it was them and by the time they figured out it wasn't, I'd be long gone."

"Alternatively you could just use your Millennium Ring to erase their minds."

"Sometimes Marik," Bakura kissed Marik's nose, "it's more fun to do things the old fashioned way."

"I'd use mind-control."

"I know."

The writer does not in any way recommend anyone in the audience to follow Bakura's example unless they have a Millennium item on hand. This fanfic is not an instruction manual of any kind, so if you get caught shoplifting or making out with your boyfriend, it's your own damn fault for not thinking things through thoroughly. Thinking things through thoroughly. Try saying that ten times fast! And now, without further ado, I return you to your crappy anime cartoon—I mean smut fic:

Scratch what Marik had thought before; Bakura was still a tease. The kitten was not stripping the malevolent puppet-master yet. He turned the boy around and proceeded to trace the inscription of Slifer the Executive Producer, Obelisk the Tormentor and Mega Ultra Chicken under the purple shirt.

Eventually the top came off, and a hot wet tongue traced the images over again.

"I hope we're not making the gods angry, Florence." Marik muttered against the wall, feeling his skin being nipped and licked at.

Bakura paused and let out a low chuckle, "I'll take the risk, Marik."

Pale fingers slipped underneath black pants.

"Ah."

"Mm?"

"Florence…"

Bakura stripped the boy of his pants.

Marik's black trousers tumbled to the floor. The blonde sidestepped out of them, kicking the article of clothing away.

Meanwhile, Bakura was busy where he left off kissing Marik's tattoo, especially the part reading "DIE YUGI DIE". After all, scars are incredibly sexy on a pretty boy, especially one as fucked up as Marik. Bonus points if they involved killing Yugi.

The trail of hot lips making contact against tanned skin ended at Marik's tailbone. Standing back up, Bakura wrapped his arms around the Egyptian's body, pulling the boy into a standing spoon position, much like how they were the night before.

"Do you want to try something new today?" The villain spoke into Marik's ear.

Bakura's hot breath sent the Egyptian's blood running, "Like what?"

"Like taking me?"

"Uh," Marik entertained the thought briefly, "which way?"

"Whatever way you like. Balls included."

"Uh, no. Just do what we did yesterday."

"So it still doesn't turn you on, then?"

"Putting a dick in my mouth? Or up your ass? No. I'm still trying to come to terms that you're touching me all over and I don't actually mind that."

"Fair enough."

Bakura idly wondered how long it would take before Marik agreed to toys and other variations of sexual acts and positions, as well as how many different places he could get the boy to agree to fuck in, from the backseat of a car to a bathtub in an attic somewhere—or on public transportation, like a bus or a train and especially on a plane over 5,280 ft. It goes without saying the thief had far too much time on his mind to daydream during the past several Evil Council meetings.

"You know what, Bakura?" Marik continued to blabber as he was pulled backward toward the couch, completely ignorant of Bakura's mental fantasies.

Bakura briefly unwrapped his arms from the boy and picked up the lube that lay on the floor, "What?"

"This isn't like anything I've read in my comic books. For one thing, we talk WAY too freaking much." That cool and moist feeling was making its way into his asshole again.

"You do have a pretty loud mouth."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious." Marik leaned over to rest his arms on the couch headboard as Bakura fingered him.

"You can choose to stay silent if you wish, Marik."

"I thought this kind of thing was going to be instinctual. You know, that it was going to be amazing. Like, mind-blowing beyond imaginable kind of amazing." It did feel good to get a massage down there.

"With practice and humble expectations, it usually gets there sooner or later. That circuit in your brain needs sufficient start up time to reinforce, you know."

"Well I didn't know that."

"That's why rape hurts like a bitch for a first-timer."

"Do you remember your first time?"

"No one bothered to make it special for me, so no. I don't recall it at all. Lost count."

"Oh." Marik felt a tad sorry for Bakura—just a tad, "Did you have porn in Ancient Egypt, Florence?"

"Marik, there is no human society that exists without porn. I just don't bother to read—the last time I did I needed a severe case of brain bleach."

"What did you see?"

"Marik, I'm not going to think about it. It'll ruin the mood. Your dark ass is much better eye candy."

"Oh." The compliment made Marik feel tingly, even while the blonde's attention was distracted by the sensations Bakura's fingers were causing. "Okay."

Marik prepared himself to be penetrated a second time.

"GARRGHIUAAA~" He wailed loudly, squirming away, "FUCK."

"Too fast?"

"I don't know but it fucking hurts."

"Are you still sore?"

"Not really. That was more like a giant sting from a sharp knife lodged up my ass slicing into my colon."

Bakura raised an eyebrow at the elaborate description of pain, "Probably needed more lube. You're more uptight than you were yesterday."

"I can relax." Marik pouted, determined to prove his capability, but was happy to receive the fingers again anyway. It didn't make sense in his head that the second time would hurt more than the first. He supposed it might be different every time, like kisses.

Now that was more like it—Marik waited for the familiar sensation to fill him again. It wasn't a bad feeling. So long as it wasn't a bad feeling he could label it good and when he labeled it good he could dwell on it and the better it felt and now he could properly visualize himself having the time of his life.

"Florence."

"Yes?"

"Fuck harder."

"I thought you'd never ask."

Somehow the pair of wild fucking animals ended up on the kitchen table, seeing as Bakura wanted a change in scenery. There, Marik had his first date with Rosie Palms and her five lovely daughters with a lot of verbal encouragement from Bakura, who had fantasized about watching Marik do himself on several occasions. Marik found that no one needed to scream names in ecstasy—there was a silent understanding between the two of who came when.

The Egyptian didn't mind being pushed onto the hard table, since his brain was still trying to digest the concept of fucking nonstop for the past forty-eight hours: Once against a grave stone, then in the middle of his kitchen the next morning, then on his couch and the next day he was pinned to the wall, back over his couch and now lying on his kitchen table. It was mind-boggling. He would've thought his first time would be in a bed—and that has still yet to happen.

"I just thought of something, Florence." Marik watched Bakura's chest rise and fall, "Since I know your real name I guess I should share mine."

"Florence isn't my real name. My parents changed their mind later on." Bakura ran his fingers through the blonde hair, "Although thanks to the fans it has now become canon. Anyway, you have real name?"

"It's more like a full name. Marik Sebastian Ishtar III."

Bakura shut Marik up after that with a deep kiss. A good minute later, he asked, "You mean to tell me there was a Marik Sebastian Ishtar and a Marik Sebastian Ishtar II?"

"No, my father is just fucking crazy and a giant douche bag. I am the only Marik in existence." The Egyptian scoffed in a proud manner.

"Figures. By the way, Marik," Bakura sat on the table to grab the blonde's unfinished-now-soggy-cereal, "Do you still insist on being straight?"


	11. Bugger Me

**The Closet Problem**

Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh! Belongs to Kazuki Takahashi. Inspired by "The EFF Hole" scene in Little Kuriboh's YGOTAS Deleted Scenes Montage, along with other references from YGOTAS, Marik's Evil Council of Doom and Bakura responding to YouTube comments. The ideas and the lines taken from the said inspiration do not belong to me. I only continue to ask: "What happens next?"

**Warning:** While you enjoy your Thiefshipping, have some Puzzleshipping on the side, thrown in for kicks because I can do that. Mwahaha.

* * *

**Chapter Eleven: Bugger Me**

"EWW, Bakura!" Marik wasted no time speaking his mind, "Wash your hands first."

Bakura decided to follow the blonde's advice, still feeling hot and sweaty. The Egyptian didn't sweat even half as much as he did, but still wanted a shower. Marik glared at the thief's retreating figure, determined to convince both parties, "Just because a guy likes to dress effeminately and hang around with another extremely attractive man and stare at his pale naked body and have sex with him and read yaoi and fanfiction and sing to Lady Gaga and flaunt his gorgeous abs and stroke a phallic symbol suggestively in every other scene does NOT automatically make him gay."

Bakura didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the furthering transparency of Marik's closet, calling from the sink, "Marik, that is the definition of the word."

"Silence fool! It is NOT. Someone who is gay likes men. I only like you."

"And I happen to be a man," Bakura mocked, having thrown water over himself to cool off, "You're fighting a losing battle, Marik."

"SILENCE!"

Suddenly the phone rang. Seeing Bakura preoccupied with stealing Marik's breakfast, the blonde sauntered over to answer the phone.

"Who the fuck is it?"

"It's Zorc."

"Zorc?"

"Yes, it's me. I'm looking for Bakura. Is he with you?"

Marik turned to his kitten, "Bakura! Your ex-boyfriend is looking for you. Do you want to talk to him?"

Not looking up from his meal, Bakura briskly answered, "No. And he's NOT my ex-boyfriend. Though he IS your husband, apparently. How did that happen?"

"I can't remember. It was probably one of the ancient rituals I was put through as a child."

"Did you ever get around to filing a divorce?"

"I forgot about it."

"I think that's a rather important detail, Marik."

"I guess I'll go do that then." Marik turned his attention back to the phone, "Hey Zorc."

"Yes?"

"I'm filing a divorce."

"Oh, I already did that."

"What? Since when?"

"Before my contract with Disney, they insisted it would be best to cut all ties with you. It wouldn't look good on my profile if people found out we've been living separately for years but were still married. Besides, Disney doesn't take too well that I was married to another man. I had to convince them that you were a woman."

"Frig the friggin' frig shtick out of friggin' hell!"

Bakura put the empty bowl down, "Marik, remember your blood pressure."

Marik ignored Bakura, glaring at the phone, "I am NOT a woman."

"Don't worry Marik," said Zorc cheerfully, "nobody else knows."

"So it's official?"

"I am a lawyer."

Bakura rolled his eyes, "Marik, hand me the phone."

Marik slammed the phone into Bakura's waiting palm, still frustrated at being called a woman by a giant demon monster with a gigantic friggin' dragon penis.

"Bakura!" Zorc chided him from the other side of the line, "I am very disappointed in you—today is the anniversary of our adopted daughter's death."

"You have an adopted daughter?" Marik eavesdropped on their conversation.

"She died of a terminal illness." Bakura sighed, "It was for the ratings. I don't really care anymore."

Zorc was surprised at Bakura's apathy, "Was my terminal disease for the ratings too, Bakura?"

"Does it really matter since you magically got better?" Bakura spat, wanting to end the conversation, "Besides, it's not like we're renewed for a second season or anything. You! You go have fun doing your spin-off show and never come looking for me again!"

Marik watched the villain rudely hang up and shove the piece of technology back into his hands. Not knowing what else to do, he put the phone back. "How the friggin' hell did Zorc get my number?"

Marik paused, "More importantly, did you ever sleep with him, Bakura?"

"I'm not answering that question, Marik."

"I mean he's kinda _big_."

"I know."

"And _hard_."

"I know."

"And _spiky_."

"I know."

"That would hurt. He could blow you up from the inside."

"I know."

"With _fire_."

"Marik." Bakura was feeling that headache again.

"So did you or did you not?"

The thief sent his darkest death glare to the Egyptian mastermind, "_Marik_."

"Yes?"

"Bugger off."

"Well that's not very nice."

"I'm not very nice, Marik."

"So did you or did you not?"

Bakura wanted to rip his hair out, "Do I really look like I can fit a dragon up my ass?"

"Perhaps."

"_MARIK_."

"No."

"There's your answer."

"Oh. So was your relationship for the ratings too?"

"I'm surrounded by idiots," Bakura muttered to himself.

Speaking of ratings…

"I just realized something Bakura!" Marik exclaimed with joy.

"What?"

"We have successfully wrested our way into stealing the spotlight in terms of screentime! This fanfic writer has only written a one-shot for the friggin' Pharaoh while we get eleven times that! HA! WAH-HA-HA-HA-HA~!" The puppet master bent back his head to cackle like an insane, Evil genius.

* * *

"Yugi," the Pharaoh hastily barged into Yugi's soul room, "we have an emergency."

"What is it now, Pharaoh?"

"Those bastards Marik and Bakura have stolen our screentime!"

"The Bakura we don't like?"

"Yeah, that one. Wait, you mean there's a Bakura we do like?"

"His name is Ry—

—Look I don't care," the Spirit cut Yugi off, "How dare those two numbskulls get their own story and ramp it up to eleven; that's ELEVEN times the attention that could have been given to MY story. We need to take back our place as main characters."

"Does this mean we'll be making out in front of a live studio audience?"

"If we need to, yes."

"I'm not agreeing to this. I, Yugi Motou, do not do smut."

"Yugi, let me remind you we just did smut in the previous fic, _MindRape_."

"It was non-explicit."

"This is an open declaration of war, Yugi."

"I don't care, Pharaoh. They have no chance of winning anyway. This isn't the Marik and Bakura show; this is Yu-Gi-Oh! There is no way those two could EVER ounce us from being the star of the show."

"Yugi…"

"Sex is a very special and very private act of consummation between two people in love and I am not signing up for being a porn star just to show how much of an attention whore you are."

"I am not an attention whore Yugi, I am the Pharaoh."

Yugi sighed, "In your case, it's the same thing."

"If you aren't going to help me, then consider our partnership broken."

"Spirit, you and I both know that if you try to deprive me then you are deprived yourself."

"Nonsense. I'll…" The other Yugi paused, "I'll go out with Joey."

"Joey is a Furry who fantasizes about BDSM with Kaiba's ego and is in love with Mai Valentine's breasts."

"Okay, forget what I just said." How dare Joey choose giant fake boobies over his leather-clad tushy.

"Trust me, Pharaoh, we don't need to fight."

"Are you telling me what to do? You are never helpful, so pipe down, little man."

"You're such a bully."

"Well, you're just a cute baby panda."

"Was I supposed to take that as an insult?"

The Spirit nodded, "Yes."

"It's not working."

"Fine then. We'll get our revenge in the next episode. Considering they REALLY do have next to no screentime in the actual show."

"Yes, that's right."

"I have other enemies to be fighting."

"Why are we always fighting anyway?" Yugi wondered aloud, "You'd think after saving the world once we wouldn't have to do it another five hundred times."

The Pharaoh took Yugi's hands in his own, "That's why we will always have card games, Yugi. Always."

* * *

"_Marik_." Bakura's voice cracked dangerously low.

"What?"

"You mean to tell me that this is a fanfic."

"Yes."

"The delirious ramblings of an undisclosed shipper that is the product of his or her delusional and demented, hormone-induced overactive imagination?"

"Yes."

"And none of this actually happened."

"Of course not."

"Bugger me."

* * *

Author's final remarks:

That's the end, folks! I hope you enjoyed reading this whether you're just an open or covert pervert, or a sincere fan of the UST banter between these two characters, or happily both. Thanks for all your wonderful reviews; I hoped that I wasn't the only one looking for a YGOTAS-canon fic and I'm pleasantly surprised my contribution was well appreciated.

I tried my best to keep both of them in-character, which is why Marik remains in the closet no matter how transparent it becomes and the lemon is never elaborated with any romantic detail seeing as a certain tanned blonde would send Steves after me (and you). Neither of these two are very romantic people, despite how much Bakura loves his fangirls, I doubt he would stop being evil for the sake of slash since his evil persona is why we love him in the first place. As for Zorc… He's still lonely. Aww.


End file.
